For Destiny and Friendship
by AMirroredImage
Summary: "'I-I am your servant, till the day I die.' He grunted, readjusting his grip on his staff with one hand, while his right hand made contact with Arthur's armored chest. 'Long. Live. The King.' And with those words, Merlin's eye flashed gold." AU Alternate Ending to 5x13. No slash. Scarfic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

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><p>"<em>I want to say...something I've never said to you before… Thank you."<em>

"No. _No_, don't you dare die on me Arthur." Merlin hoisted the dead weight of his king's arm over his shoulder, pulling the rest of the unconscious man up from the ground. "Not yet. I still have secrets I need to share. You _need_ to hear them."

Tears dripped from the warlock's cheeks as he rambled on. Exhaustion and worry threatened to choke the servant as he took a few awkward steps forward, taking on most of Arthur's weight. "There's Valiant, a-and the Questing Beast… Alator—the Fomorroh. I have so much to tell you." Merlin grunted with effort, struggling to support the armor-clad warrior. Despair filled his heart as the grim truth sunk in; he wouldn't be able to carry Arthur any further. Not able to walk more than a few steps with his burden, the warlock eventually sunk to the ground, sobs wracking his slim frame as he laid Arthur's head on his shoulder. "Please… wake up."

Merlin stared at the body of his best friend. They couldn't have come all this way just to fail. _Would Destiny be so cruel?_ He shook his head. No. There was a pulse. The King still lived, and as long as he did, Emrys would always fight for him.

Merlin stared up at the sky with a new determination flashing in his clear blue eyes. Tilting his head back, he roared to the heavens, the words of the ancient tongue erupting from the part of his soul linked to the dragon race, _"O drakon! E male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"_

His voice died away, the request sent on the wind as it whistled through the clearing. He could only hope Kilgharrah had heard him. Merlin knew how weak his kin was the last time they had seen each other.

But after all of this, was he really going to fail?

He'd waited over a decade, watching the arrogant prat of a prince grow into a wise king, for the moment to reveal himself to Arthur. Every angry tirade about the evils of magic was a knife to his heart, slowly whittling away at the hope he carried within his chest. To hear those words from the lips of the man he considered his other half—his brother in all but blood, was a terrible burden. But he'd held on to his dwindling hope, keeping it alive with everything he had. The fact that his king had made a tentative peace with the Druids, and never publicly executed someone with magic was a small comfort to Merlin, until Kara came along. When all the pieces fell into place, and Destiny took them to Camlann, the fire of hope had almost completely left him—replaced by fear and dread. He was unable to stop Mordred's destiny, and neglected his own by failing to protect his king, the Once and Future.

The journey after his reveal was one of the toughest he'd yet to face. Physical exhaustion, a broken friendship, and the desire to prove himself to his king had nearly pulled him to his knees. But none of it compared to his anguish as he watched Arthur fade away, with fear and hurt of his servant's secret slowly turning to acceptance. He was going to lose his friend—his brother, and he would never know what it was like to return to Camelot, accepted by his king, and free of his secret. He had thanked him, and now he was going to die.

No. He would save Arthur, no matter what the cost.

After a few minutes passed by—ones that seemed like hours to Merlin as he listened to the shallow breaths of the man he held, a new sound made its way to the Dragonlord's ears. Dragon wings.

Kilgharrah landed in the clearing, lacking the grace that Merlin had always attributed to his kin. He was weaker. Would he even be able to help?

Merlin pushed away his doubt, and stood, lowering Arthur to the grass beneath him.

"Young warlock, there is nothing you can do." The gold gaze of the dragon bore down on Merlin.

The solemnity of the words brought tears back to Merlin's eyes. _There's still time_, he told himself. The warlock shook his head slightly to clear away the desperation that fought for control, "Kilgharrah, I need to get him to Avalon." Pausing, he took a deep breath to steady his voice and looked up. "He's my friend. I can't lose him." _Isn't there anything that can be done? Can't you heal him?_

Kilgharrah's eyes slipped to the unconscious king on the ground, and then back to Merlin. His golden orbs answered the questions hidden in the warlock's heart. "There is nothing I can do to save him. You must take heart that he will rise again… when Albion's need for him is greatest."

A wave of determination swept through him, power filling his voice, "I can't accept that. I have to try while he still lives." Merlin went back to kneel at Arthur's side, and took the king's hand in his. He sniffled, letting a small sob break the quiet that had fallen over the clearing. The warlock's hushed voice filled the field as he began speaking in gentle tones to the Once and Future King. The dragon watched his kin's actions with sadness, an aged sighed releasing from his throat. "I will take you to Avalon, but I fear it will be all for naught, young warlock."

Merlin nodded in response, gratitude filling his gaze. Again, he hoisted the king's body into his arms.

"Come on you, prat," he said in Arthur's ear, "Help me out a bit, or I'll have to put you on a diet when we get back."

Merlin chuckled at his own jibe, wishing there was a response from the silent friend in his arms. _Whatever it takes_, he thought as he pulled him onto the dragon. The warlock looped his arms protectively around the king, and looked down at the back of Kilgharrah's head, mentally signaling for his friend to depart. A few seconds later, the dragon leapt into the air, flapping his mighty wings towards their destination.

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><p>The air around Avalon was thick with mist as Kilgharrah landed on the Isle. Merlin could feel it's Magic—the sheer power that came from, and surrounded, the land. It sang to him, calling for the prophesized Emrys. Hope began to burn in his chest.<p>

"Alright, down you go." He settled Arthur onto the wet grass beside the dragon, making sure the king's chain mail was laid out comfortably underneath him. A soft moan escaped the warrior, and Merlin paused to wrap his long fingers around his friend's wrist; he was only partially comforted by the weak pulse beating beneath his fingertips.

"Arthur? Can you hear me?" Desperation leaked into the warlock's voice, though he fought hard to stop it. A brief smile flitted across his face. He was sure that if the king had been healthy and conscious, the familiar jibe of "don't be such a girl, _Mer_lin," would have made an appearance. After all, it was one of Arthur's favorite insults.

Another grunt pulled Merlin from his thoughts, as the blue eyes of the king fluttered open. "M-lin...?"

"We're on the Isle." He pulled the king's hand up to his own face, letting his lips form into a gentle smile as he choked back a sob, "Just stay with me for a few minutes longer."

Arthur's head nodded almost imperceptibly. A slight smile—though more of a grimace, combined with the strength in his eyes was enough to portray his thoughts: _I'm not going anywhere_. He wouldn't let death take him yet.

Merlin nodded back, and replaced the king's arm back over his armored chest. He stood, staring down at Arthur for a moment before looking towards the shore. He needed to summon the Sidhe. Merlin hesitated, suddenly unsure of himself as his worries swirled around in his mind; How did one summon such an ancient race, exactly?

"Use your staff, young warlock." The rumbling voice of Kilgharrah came from behind him. The tone was a mix of exasperation and fondness that could only come from the scaly beast.

Merlin let out a soft, embarrassed chuckled, knowing that Arthur was inwardly laughing as a powerful dragon reprimanded his servant. Some things would never change—his forgetfulness would always be a part of him. He silently hoped that once Arthur was better, he wouldn't team up with Kilgharrah and decide to make his life any more difficult than it already was. There were plenty of idiotic moments in his past that neither man nor beast needed to remind him of.

Shaking his head, Merlin quickly refocused on his task. He stuck his left hand out into the air beside him and focused on the image of his staff. Within seconds, a slight glow appeared around the outstretched limb and the Sidhe staff materialized in his grasp. Merlin let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding, looking back towards Kilgharrah. The dragon merely motioned his head toward the lake, content to guide his kin silently.

Merlin's gaze slid back to his king. Arthur's eyes were still open, filled with both the determination to stay awake, and the frustration of lacking the strength to move.

Merlin gave him a soft smile before turning back to the water. The warlock stepped forward, letting the small waves wash over his boots. It was cold, but it was a sensation that could easily be lost behind the worry he held for his friend.

He raised his left hand, and in one fluid movement, thrust the staff into the lake waters beside him. Immediately, Merlin's magic roiled beneath his skin, telling him of an approaching power. It was then that blue fairy-like beings appeared from the mist, hovering in Merlin's line of vision.

"Emrys." A hushed whisper floated in the air around the three intruders.

"Emrys." The Sidhe closest to Merlin spoke over the whispers, the solidity of his voice overpowering the others. "You dare come to us? Why should we grant favors to those who would see the death of our kin?"

"I am not here for myself, but for the Once and Future King." Merlin's voice resonated with a power that matched the Sidhe king's, "What I have done to your people is only what they have deserved. I make no apologies for protecting my king."

Arthur looked on, pushing away the feelings of betrayal that threatened a pain nearly as harsh as the shard of sword imbedded in his chest. Merlin was powerful. And he had hidden this part of himself from those who cared for him. Did he truly know who this man who stood before him was? Was this sorcerer and his bumbling servant one and the same? He was drowning in questions. It was all Arthur could do to stave back those thoughts as he watched the ancient creatures convene with one another.

Merlin spoke again, "I am here to request your help. I need to heal Arthur, before it's too late."

"Again, Emrys, you ask too much." The small king shook his head, "The blow that was dealt to the young king was a mortal one, and therefore requires the enactment of the Power of Life and Death. You have no life to exchange for his."

"I am willing to pay that price with my own." Merlin's left hand re-gripped his staff, portraying the anxiousness he held behind the calculating façade.

"You are Magic, and cannot be used as a sacrifice for such a thing."

"I am immortal!" Merlin's voice thundered in frustration, "I am the prophesized Emrys, protector and advisor of the Once and Future King. I am a High Priest of the Old Religion, and Magic incarnate. I have what you require and demand that it be so!"

"-lin…" Arthur grunted from behind him, but Merlin refused to turn around.

"No, Mer-lin." The soft command reached his ears, but again, Merlin ignored it.

"My life for his." Merlin's eyes flashed dangerously.

"It cannot be done," the Sidhe responded. "A mortal life for an immortal one would disrupt the balance of the Old Religion. It is not possible."

Silence took over the isle. The mist and feelings of despair lay like thick blankets across the group of beings.

Merlin shook his head. "No." He took a steadying breath. "It must be done…" He looked up at the floating being before him, whispering so that his king would not hear the dangerous suggestion, "What about a mortal life for a life's immortality. Is there a way for… immortality, to be stripped from an immortal being?"

The Sidhe hesitated, thinking over the request as he met Merlin's demanding gaze with his own calculated stare. "It would be tricky… and dangerous, but I see no way in which it could be deemed impossible. Especially in the case of such a… destiny."

Merlin smiled at the Sidhe's quiet response, the first real smile that he had allowed on his face since before the battle of Camlann. His king could be saved. Arthur would return to Camelot, his people, his wife.

"Then it's settled. Will you broker such an exchange?" Merlin's voice returned to its normal volume.

"I will." The Sidhe king bowed his head in agreement, resignation flashing in his eyes.

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><p>Behind Merlin, Arthur's brow scrunched in pain and confusion. What exchange? Didn't the Sidhe say it was impossible? <em>What was Merlin getting at?<em> If that idiot was doing something stupid and putting his own life in jeopardy…

"Merlin." He breathed out the name of his friend, willing the strength in his voice to be enough to get the manservant to look at him. It was.

Merlin turned slowly, his eyes meeting Arthur's for only a split second before they moved to the grass. "Yes, Sire?"

"What-t… what does he mean?" Arthur took a breath, wincing slightly at the pain in his chest, "What exchange?"

Merlin was silent for a moment before pulling his lips into a tight, thin line, "I am doing what I have been destined to do, since the moment I met you my king. It is my duty to see that you live past this day."

It took a second for Arthur's mind to pick up what Merlin was saying. "No." He grunted, "You are _not_ dying for me, you idiot." His breathing was more labored than before, forcing him to take a few shallow breaths before continuing, "You. Can't-t, I-" Arthur's voice broke off as his breathing hitched.

Merlin's eyes snapped back to his king's, alarm written across his face as he stepped from the water in a frantic gait.

"Arthur. Arthur?"

Arthur opened his eyes—not realizing that he had closed them in the first place, to the worried face of his former manservant. "-lin…"

Merlin sighed, relieved that the king was still hanging on. "I'm doing this Arthur, and you can't stop me." Quickly, he stood and faced the Sidhe, leaving Arthur with no time to protest his friend's actions. A rumble from his other side told the King that the dragon was also not thrilled with the plan his lord had come up with.

"I'm ready." Merlin tightened his grip on his staff, his knuckles white against the weapon and his stance tense, as if preparing for an attack.

Arthur watched as the Sidhe's eyes lit with the telltale gold of magic and as unintelligible and ancient words erupted from the small being. He quieted after another few moments, and then flew forward. The Sidhe's eyes shone with power, and what Arthur saw as… regret? He felt his heartbeat quicken, watching as the fairy rested his hand on the staff in Merlin's possession.

Immediately, the crystal orb on the top of the staff glowed a brilliant blue, and the air on the Isle became imbued with an electrifying magic—strong magic. Merlin stiffened, and his breath caught in his throat, the ancient magic of the Sidhe pulling at his life force. Merlin gritted his teeth and forced his own magic down as it roiled up to protect him against the invading power.

Arthur watched Merlin's back, as his manservant's knees suddenly gave out, and Merlin sunk to the ground, his hands now both wrapped tightly around the gnarled staff.

"Merlin!" Worry strengthened the King's voice as he called out to his friend. _What on earth was going on?_

A pained moan erupted from the back of Merlin's throat. It was harder than he thought to make his magic lie down and take the painful assault from the intruding force. He felt each wave of magic as it coursed through his veins, feeling as though it was flaying him from the inside out. A strangled gasp and another wave of Sidhe magic brought one of Merlin's hands to rest on the ground. He panted as he fought for control over his breathing.

Suddenly, the magic found it target, and Merlin realized how unprepared he had been for such a bargain. The Sidhe magic absorbed Merlin's powers in swift waves of pulsing magic, taking with it a life that would save his king. Merlin screamed, his back arching in pain as the magic ripped itself from his body, leaving him gasping and moaning on the dewed grass of the Isle, his staff laying on the ground beside him, still in his left hand's white-knuckle grip.

The Sidhe king flew down to Merlin's eye level and focused on the blue mist of magic hovering above Merlin. More ancient words filled the air, combining with the moans of the warlock and the labored breathing of his king. The Sidhe once again touched the staff; the blue orb glowing an even brighter blue than before, as the magical mist was absorbed through its surface.

Arthur was struggling to keep his eyes open, the exhaustion and pain in his body were slowly overcoming the promises he made to the warlock. He strained to watch as the Sidhe hovered close to Merlin's ear, only catching the end of the magical being's conversation, "Now it is up to you to perform the spell, Emrys."

Merlin's head still hung towards the ground, propped up by his hands and knees as he struggled to control his breathing and the sudden loss of energy. Slowly, he rose to one knee, using the staff to help him up the rest of the way. His eyes blazed with determination as he came towards his waning king. There was an ancient power in the way he held himself, one that made Arthur fleetingly wonder if Merlin was hiding a noble bloodline as well as magic.

Arthur gasped as the shard in his chest caused another wave of pain to attack his senses. His time was running out. He grunted as Merlin knelt beside him, suddenly unsure of the stranger above him. Merlin's eyes were flecked with gold, a power that was never attributed to the manservant Arthur had befriended for the last ten years.

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><p>A flicker of fear passed through Arthur's expression, causing Merlin to hesitate. Pain and guilt flashed in the warlock's eyes.<p>

Arthur was scared of him.

The thought startled Merlin, and for a moment, he forgot his task, until a jolt of powerfully overwhelming magic brought him back to reality. He gritted his teeth against the uncomfortable sensation and looked Arthur directly in the eyes. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Sire. And I know you've seen your fair share of pain at the hands of magic, but I swear to you, I am your servan-t…" It was becoming harder for Merlin to hold back the Sidhe's magic, but he knew he had to finish his thought. "I-I am your servant, till the day I die." He grunted, readjusting his grip on his staff with one hand, while his right hand made contact with Arthur's armored chest. "Long. Live. The King." And with those words, Merlin's eyes flashed gold.

A wave of warm magic crashed into Arthur's body, making him tense for a moment, before it blanketed him in a comforting hold. He felt the tightness in his chest lessen, and his eyes immediately sought those of his manservant's. But Merlin's eyes were shut, and his lips moved to form the silent words of the spell. Suddenly, Merlin gasped, his body shuddering.

And then a white, blinding light filled Arthur's vision, until everything faded to black.

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><p>AN: Well, there it is! Please review and let me know what you think!<p>

Next chapter will be up before September 23rd.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for following and reviewing!

I definitely agree that Merlin would not want immortality, so this is my way of addressing that issue.

To answer your questions, this fic is going to be just over 20K words, but I plan to write a sequel as well. This story is really just about creating an alternate ending and dealing with Merlin's reveal in order to set up a foundation for my future fics in the Golden Age of Albion.

So without further ado, Here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

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><p>Arthur woke with two things on his mind. First, that he was very much alive. Second, the deep breaths he was taking told him the heaviness in his chest was gone. The shard was gone. He was going to live. He reveled in another deep breath, relaxing at the ease in which his chest expanded—something he thought he would never again do without pain. Arthur let out a small chuckle of relief. He was going to live.<p>

After a few minutes of just breathing, he noted the silence ringing in his ears. He didn't know why it unnerved him so much…

Merlin. That's why.

For the past ten years, whenever he woke from falling unconscious in battle, or even in in his bed at Camelot, the first thing to greet his eyes and ears was Merlin. Memories of his cheeky manservant, flashed before his eyes: Merlin telling him he had dealt a dragon a mortal blow, that he had to give a speech in twenty minutes, or to simply 'rise and shine'.

His breathing hitched, but this time there was no shard of sword. Fear sunk into Arthur's chest, making it once again hard for him to breathe. The King forced his eyelids open, blinking rapidly as the brightness of the afternoon threatened his eyes. The level of light told him that he had been unconscious for nearly a day, as it had been close to evening when his eyes were last open.

When he could handle the light, Arthur's eyes set to work, searching to his left, above him, and to the right. He frowned. No sign of Merlin's face. There was no one there, not even the Sidhe or the dragon.

Arthur pushed himself up, propping his body up with his elbows. Looking around, he scanned the Isle for traces of Merlin: a mop of black hair, a cheeky smile.

There.

To his right—a little ways off from where he had been kneeling by the king's side was the unconscious form of Arthur's manservant. Panic edged its way into Arthur's mind, giving him the strength to crawl towards the warlock's still form.

Arthur reached out and touched Merlin's shoulder, pulling him around so that he lay on his back. "Merlin?"

Arthur's eyes assessed the unconscious manservant. His left hand, the one that had once gripped the Sidhe staff tightly, was now only serving as a resting place for the item. Arthur moved the staff from Merlin's open palm, and, determining the servant had no other outer injuries, shakily reached to grasp the warlock's wrist. An erratic pulse beat beneath his fingertips.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. They would both be going home.

Smiling to himself, Arthur lightly smacked his servant's cheek. "Merlin? Come on you lazy daisy, rise and shine!"

Nothing.

He repeated the action, only this time a bit harder.

Arthur frowned at Merlin's still features. Perhaps he should try a different method? He looked at the Lake of Avalon. Ah, water usually worked nicely. Arthur stood slowly, half expecting a pain in his side, another half feeling the exhaustion of the last few days, and his muscles still being sore from the trying battle at Camlann.

Relief again passed like a strengthening wind through his mind. He was alive. Arthur made his way over to the lake shore, so fully intent on getting a decent cup of water to throw onto his dozing servant, that he failed to notice the young woman standing on the shore to his left.

"Arthur Pendragon." The soft feminine voice startled Arthur from his mental planning. He immediately looked to his left, finally noticing the girl. Her feet were ankle deep in the water, her tattered red dress skimming the surface of the lake. Brown hair and gentle eyes watched the young king with a calculating stare.

Arthur broke from the stare as his arm went for his sword… only to realize both sword and scabbard had been removed from his belt. He froze. "Who are you?"

She put her hands up in a placating, peaceful gesture, "I won't hurt you, young king. I wouldn't dream of hurting anyone whom my Merlin cherishes." She took a few steps, her feet still touching the small waves, before she extended an outstretched palm in Arthur's direction, "I am only here to deliver this to you." A small vial was perched on her open hand, clear liquid filling the container. "Merlin was severely weakened by the strong magic that was performed last night. This should aid his magic in strengthening him."

At the mention of Merlin's wellbeing, Arthur slowly started forward, taking the vial from the young woman's hand. He looked at it, turning it over in his open palm before looking back up at her, "He could have died last night." He murmured, "Couldn't he have?"

She hesitated, before nodding confirmation. "Merlin is a rare character. More powerful than any could hope to be, but too selfless than any should. As magic incarnate, it is his choice to bend the Old Religion as he sees fit, even if he is unaware of the abilities he possesses." She sighed, "The world has never seen such a magic, but with Merlin's nature and stubbornness, there would have been no talking him out of it. He would have done what the spell asked of him, regardless of any consequence to his well-being… even if it meant death." Her voice hardened at the last few words, but a few deep breaths calmed her enough to bring her eyes back up to King Arthur, "Take care of him. There are trying times ahead."

Arthur was unsure of Merlin's connection to this obviously magical woman, but the sincerity with which she asked her question reminded the king of his queen, "Of course. You have my word."

With his assurances, the woman smiled, and began to turn around, back towards the water and mist.

"Wait!" Arthur reached a hand out as if to pull her back to shore. She turned, expectantly watching the king. "I-I, just…" he paused. "Thank you."

The young woman smiled. "It is my pleasure," she said simply. Arthur smiled in return, looking down at the vial in his hands. When he picked his head up again, he found that the mysterious woman was gone, disappeared into the mist.

Arthur's grip tightened around the small vial as he made his way back to his unconscious friend. He knelt down next to Merlin, uncorking the vial. Arthur placed his hand behind the unconscious warlock's neck, supporting him as he poured the liquid down his throat.

He waited, watching for signs of consciousness, but nothing happened. He leaned forward, lightly tapping Merlin's cheek with his fingers, "Rise and shine!"

Finally, the boy groaned and shifted in the grass. Merlin's eyes fluttered open with another soft moan as he quickly shut them to avoid the bright sunlight. After a few moments, he tried again; his eyelids came up to reveal sky blue irises, although a bit cloudy from sleep.

"Arthur?" the warlock murmured.

Before the King had time to respond, realization sparked to life in Merlin's eyes, as he repeated happily, "Arthur!" He reached out towards his now-healed friend for a hug, but moved too fast. He moaned and his eyes clamped shut as a wave of nausea rolled through his body. His arm had managed to reach the king's shoulder, so he held on, head bent forward, a few inches from Arthur's chainmail-clad chest.

"Merlin, are you alright?" He asked, gazing at his manservant-turned-sorcerer with concern. He placed his hand on Merlin's other shoulder to steady him as his friend took deep, slow breaths. After a moment, the warlock nodded slowly, and lifted his head.

Their eyes met—sky blue and blue-grey stared back at each other, both taking in the moment. After a trying battle, and the difficult journey to Avalon, they had both survived. Merlin let out a laugh—the light, carefree sound of survivor's relief and joy. Arthur joined in as the servant suddenly lunged forward, the distance between them closed as he wrapped his long arms around his king in an embrace, "You're alive," he murmured, happiness evident in his voice, "I did it."

Arthur returned the embrace. "Yes," he whispered, "You did it."

The Once and Future King pulled back with a frown, "Merlin… not that I'm not grateful, but how, exactly, did you do it? What kind of deal did you make with that blue fairy?"

Merlin noticed the slight apprehension that snuck into his voice as he spoke, and watched the blue-grey eyes of his king narrow with worry, "Sidhe, Arthur, those 'blue fairies' are ancient beings called the Sidhe."

"That doesn't answer my question, _Mer_lin."

The warlock swept a hand over his face and took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh, "I… Arthur, do you know what Emrys means?"

Confusion was evident on the king's face, and he cringed at the mention of the name, but he answered the question, "No. But I've heard Morgana and the Sidhe call you that. Is it… your name?" Suddenly a flash of hurt appeared on Arthur's face, "Is your name not Merlin?"

The former manservant's eyes filled with surprise, "Arthur! You met my mother, and you've been to Ealdor—how could you think my name wasn't Merlin?" He paused for a moment as Arthur sheepishly looked down at his hands. "But you are right, in a way. Emrys is a name of prophecy. It is said that there is to be a warlock, born with the power of the Old Religion who would guide and protect the Once and Future King—a king who would unite Albion and make the land prosperous and give freedom to both magic and no magic beings alike. The King and warlock were said to be two sides of the same coin—destinies intertwined. These prophecies were told centuries before your birth, kept secret and preserved by the Druids through the Great Purge," He paused, gazing into the wide eyes of his friend, "_You_, Arthur, are the Once and Future King. And I am Emrys, your protector… your warlock."

Silence filled the air as Arthur struggled to process what he'd been told. He understood the significance of 'two sides of the same coin.' Sitting here, finally aware of Merlin's hidden talents, he could feel their connection. It had been a shock, to say the least, when he woke up after the battle to find himself by a campfire with a servant he'd last seen in Camelot… And an even bigger shock to discover that he'd had magic, all this time. At first, the betrayal won over his other emotions—causing pain, sorrow, and anger, burying his relief at seeing Merlin alive, and the curiosity his divulged secret created. There was truly nothing more that he wanted than to run away—from his friend, the pain, the betrayal, but his body would not allow it. He wanted to find his love, his Guinevere. If he was going to die, he wanted it to be among the company of his Queen, and those he loved—not the man he had called a friend for a decade, only to be told it was a lie.

His greatest secret was a crushing blow, a stab in the back after years of betrayal. First Morgana, then the incident with Guinevere and Lancelot, and finally Agravaine. But his manservant's betrayal was too much to handle. Although he would never admit it out loud, Merlin was his best friend. When Gaius arrived, it was only another stab in the back to discover that he already knew. He couldn't blame him, the boy had been living with the physician for years, and Merlin was too much of an idiot to hide such a secret from the person he lived with. But the same argument could be made for himself. Merlin spent every day with him—serving Arthur, following Arthur, and riding out on dangerous missions with him. How could he be such a fool and never see what was right in front of him?

But when Gaius left him in Merlin's clumsy, 'capable' hands, things changed. When his body frustratingly refused to cooperate with the simplest of tasks, Merlin was there, helping him. Arthur knew the verbal jabs to his servant's character were cruel, but he couldn't bring himself to care. _He is a sorcerer_, he'd reminded himself_, an evil, power-hungry killer_. But under Arthur's careful watch, his stubborn manservant remained the same, kindhearted soul. He repeatedly found ways to distract and hide from the Saxons, rather than outright kill them, as Arthur assumed his secret sorcerer would. And then he had taken down Morgana. With a cold tone Arthur thought impossible for Merlin, the manservant said farewell and brought peace to the kingdom with the death of his tyrant sister. By that time the thought had begun to creep into his mind that maybe, Merlin was still the same person, with a magical bonus… maybe a bit more confident, and now openly displaying that wise glint that occasionally appeared in the manservant's eyes—but still the same, lovable idiot. His friend. And maybe, just maybe, this was who Merlin was all along. Even after everything, he could not hate that which made him whole.

And then there were these prophecies, which came into existence centuries before him, foretelling the life of a king who would free the persecuted magic users and unite the land of Albion. It was an overwhelming concept, and he knew it would take many more discussions with the newly discovered warlock to completely understand its significance.

As all of these thoughts appeared in Arthur's mind, Merlin sat patiently, his long fingers pulling at the grass beneath him.

"It's an impossible dream-" Arthur finally whispered, "-to unite all of Albion. Completely impossible."

"Not for you, Arthur, you were destined to do this. You'll see, it will all work out," Merlin paused before cautiously adding, "Besides, you've got me to help you."

"Merlin," Arthur sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, "can you… can you ever forgive me? You spent the last few days trying to save me—the last decade trying to protect me, and I've returned it with anger, and blind fear. I know I was right, to feel betrayed, but I was only thinking of myself, when you—you've spent the last decade hiding from me the one secret that would lead to your death, because you didn't want my loyalties to my father to be divided. And then, you stood by me, as king, listening to my corrupted thoughts on the evils of magic, only to hide your secret once more to protect our friendship. All along, _I_ was the one who betrayed _you_, your friendship, your trust. I am so sorry, Merlin." He looked down at the grass, tears glistening in his eyes and shame written across his features.

"Arthur," the warlock placed his hand once more on the king's shoulder, using the other hand to lift his chin, "look at me."

He obeyed, following his servant's directions until their eyes met. The tears appearing in the eyes of his former manservant magnified their sky blue color. What he had come to call the 'wise Merlin' look—although he rarely admitted it existed, was present in the warlock's gaze. His pale features, though tired and battle weary, combined with his eyes, gave him an unearthly, elven appearance.

"There is nothing to forgive," he replied, "we both carry our fair share of mistakes, but we mustn't dwell on them."

Arthur nodded, gazing unfocused behind Merlin's shoulder before returning his attention to the warlock, "What does Emrys have to do with your bargain with the Sidhe? You still haven't told me what happened yesterday."

Merlin let out what was something between a shaky laugh and deep breath before he responded, "In the Old Tongue—the language of magic, Emrys means… Immortal."

A pregnant pause filled the space between the two young men.

"Immortal?" Arthur breathed, "as in, living forever?"

"Yes," he sighed tiredly, "but whether they still call me Emrys after today is the question. I still have my magic, but I gave up immortality, to save you. That was my bargain with the Sidhe—my immortal life-force for yours."

He gestured toward the lake, "So, what you're saying is that, what I saw yesterday, was the Sidhe stripping you of your immortality?"

"Yes, exactly."

He couldn't even begin imagine how that was done, but his mind flashed back to the pained noises that his friend had made during the process, and knew it probably wasn't very comfortable. "Ow."

Merlin laughed, filling Arthur's heart with affection, "Yeah, a little bit." He smiled at his king, "but it was worth it. Definitely worth it."

They sat in the calming silence once more, smiles forming on their faces. Arthur marveled at the loyalty Merlin freely gave him. He had literally offered his life to save his king, without hesitation. Arthur only hoped that he would one day deserve the loyalty and sacrifice of his friend.

"Now," Merlin interrupted, "we've got to get you back to Camelot. It's time to go home."

"Home." Arthur murmured, finally allowing himself to think of Guinevere, and returning to her—thanks to the unfailing devotion of Merlin, alive and well. He pushed himself off the ground and stood, followed by the warlock in front of him. Merlin wavered in place, and Arthur reached out to grab him, "Are you alright?"

"Just a bit tired, it's nothing to worry about. It just took a lot more energy than I expected to save your lazy arse."

Arthur chuckled at the jab, but concern still remained in his eyes. His heart yearned to see his Camelot again, but he wouldn't sacrifice his friend by doing it, "Are you sure we should leave now? Maybe after you've had more rest—"

"Arthur." Brotherly affection laced his voice, "I'll be fine. The quicker we get back to Camelot, the quicker I can rest." The young king nodded, still a bit uncertain, but knew Merlin was determined to leave now. He bent down, picking up Excalibur and fastening the scabbard to his belt. Repeating the downward movement, he picked up Merlin's staff. He shivered as his hands grasped the magical weapon, imagining the destruction it could cause. But it was Merlin's, and he knew his fears were unwarranted; the servant's heart held no evil—only compassion and a fierce loyalty. He put his other hand on Merlin's shoulder, his hand sliding down his slender arm until it reached the wrist. He placed the staff in that hand and stepped back as Merlin adjusted his stance so it would support his weight.

"Thank you." Merlin's mouth morphed into a genuine smile. Arthur nodded in response; he had a feeling those words were about more than just the staff.

"So," he stretched out the word, "which way is Camelot, exactly?"

"Are you admitting that you're lost?" came the cheeky response,

"Of course not, _Mer_lin, I am simply saying that, since I was not the most aware on our way here, you should lead us back."

"Oh really," Merlin sobered a bit as his mind flew back to images of the desperate journey and his dying king, "Well, if you insist, Sire." He took off in a northerly direction, "the boat is this way."

"What boat?"

The warlock turned and gave him a look as if to say _"isn't it obvious"_ before responding, "I see the healing did nothing for your slow mind, Sire. We're on an island. Therefore, to leave the island, we must find a way to shore—hence, the boat."

Arthur rolled his eyes at his servant's sarcastic tone, but refused to be baited, "Why can't we take your dragon? The beast, which I distinctly remember killing, seemed quite fond of you."

"I wouldn't refer to him as a beast in his presence if I were you. Kilgharrah—that's his name, can be quite unforgiving with insults like that." Merlin stopped their walk around the Isle, leaning his back against the remains of a stone wall protruding from the ground. Arthur looked at him, prompting him to explain. "That night, when we confronted the dragon-" Merlin's eyes took on a faraway look as he continued, "-I lied."

"Well obviously, though I do remember hitting him. He should have di—"

Merlin's stern glance stopped the words on his lips, "You gave him an injury, yes, but not a mortal one. A dragon's heart is not on the left side of his body. That night, when I was the only one left standing, I commanded Kilgharrah to stop his attack and leave Camelot, but I couldn't tell you that, so I told you that it flew away to die."

Images of the roaring dragon raining havoc on his people brought a wave of fear through Arthur, "Hundreds of innocent lives were lost, and all you had to do was tell him to stop?! Why did you not tell him to leave, or use your magic earlier!"

"I couldn't control him then, not yet. I wasn't a Dragonlord then."

A pause, and then,

"A Dragonlord?"

Merlin ignored him, "The Dragonlord power is different than magic—it's an older, deeper connection. It is a gift that is passed through bloodline, from father to son, upon death."

The realization dawned, "He was your father, the one we went to for aid," Arthur breathed. All the anger he had felt moments ago melted from him like snow on a summer morning. Of course Merlin wouldn't have let the dragon kill all those innocent people if he had a choice; he would have done everything in his power to save Camelot.

"Yes, Balinor was my father. And he knew it for a day, before he died."

"_No man is worth your tears."_ The words echoed cruelly in Arthur's mind.

"And I told you… Merlin, I'm so sorry."

His servant smiled at him sadly, but his face held no anger, "Again, there is nothing to forgive, Arthur, you couldn't have known."

The thought that there were other instances in their friendship where he had carelessly uttered words like that left him with a deep feeling a dread. How did he deserve such a loyal friend?

"How many times have I hurt you, Merlin?" He spoke softly.

"You have done nothing that hasn't already been forgiven," was his response. It was meant as a comfort, but instead it only solidified the fact that Arthur had hurt his friend on more than one occasion. He made a silent vow to find any way that he could right these wrongs.

The King and warlock stayed in silence for a minute, letting the information and revelations sink in. Arthur then looked back at Merlin, a question in his eyes, "Even after all the suffering he caused, you allowed the dragon to live?"

"When I found the part of me that carried the Dragonlord gift, we became kin. I could not kill him, as the last of his kind, and I as mine. He acted out of anger toward Uther, for being locked beneath the castle for decades as your father slaughtered the rest of his kin. Since then he has let go of his anger, and has provide me with valuable knowledge multiple times to keep Camelot safe." And then, without thinking, Merlin added, "Without his help I would've died on two separate occasions. We both owe Kilgharrah our lives."

"_What_?" Arthur's eyes connected to the sincere gaze of his friend. He wanted Merlin to answer for that slip-up. But as he looked at the warlock, he could see the exhaustion—and the apprehension from mentioning his near-death experiences, that Arthur figured it could wait until they were back within the walls of the citadel. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You _will_ explain this later, Merlin—all of this. But right now, we just need to focus on getting back to Camelot."

A look of relief washed over the sorcerer's face, before a smile quickly replaced it. It would be a trying day when Merlin would reveal the real truths behind their past together. Both Arthur and Merlin knew this, and that the Isle was not the place for that conversation, so, the King continued with his questions.

"Do you think we'll be able to find the horses? Or will your dragon—I mean, Kilgharrah, take us back?

Merlin answered the first with a shake of his head. "No, our horses are long gone by now, and it would take longer to find them and travel home than it would to just walk back to Camelot from here." Merlin pushed off the stone wall, and with his staff as a support, made his way to the dilapidated dock. "And we cannot ask a dragon to carry us like a horse, just because you don't feel like walking. They are not pack animals. Besides, Kilgharrah is old and weak, and wouldn't be able to carry us very far."

"Ah," Arthur followed behind his friend, watching as they approached the small wooden vessel hovering in the water beside the shore. "So I supposed _that_ is our ride?"

Merlin smiled, "Don't worry, it might look centuries old—and it probably is, but it's perfectly safe to get across the lake."

The words did little to convince Arthur, but he promptly boarded the small rowboat as his former manservant lowered himself into a sitting position.

Arthur copied Merlin's movement, and the looked around for the oars.

"Uh, Merlin."

The warlock's gaze slid to his king's, and his head tilted in question, "Yes, Sire?"

"How are we to move the boat? The oars are missing."

Merlin's eyes took on a mischievous glint as he smiled. "Why magic, of course."

A flash of gold erupted from Merlin's irises, and the boat jolted forward, beginning its glide through the lake water.

"Of course." Arthur said quietly. This was going to take some getting used to.

* * *

><p>AN:<p>

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!

Next update will be up by September 26th.


	3. Chapter 3

Oh my goodness, that you SO much for all the reviews and favorites. I'm so glad you all like it so far!

A lot of you asked about Gwaine, and you're in luck-this chapter has the answer! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

* * *

><p>Once the warlock and king were back on land, Arthur immediately trekked towards the tree line, eager to be on his way to Camelot. However, after a few seconds it became apparent to him that his companion wasn't following.<p>

"_Mer_lin, we won't get home unless we actually start moving."

Merlin's face scrunched up, as though he were deep in thought.

"Merlin?"

Kaleidoscopic blue met the King's gaze. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

"Yes, _Mer_lin, I said, let's get a move on." Arthur impatiently motioned towards the trees with Excalibur in hand.

"There are bandits roaming the forests, it wouldn't be a good idea just to start traipsing through the trees like a wild bear."

"Are you calling me fat?" Arthur said incredulously.

Merlin simply smirked, "Why on earth would you think that, Sire?" But before Arthur could reply with a suitable comeback, Merlin held up a hand. "We want to get to Camelot as fast as we can, yes? Well, I think I might have a better option than walking."

"Like what? What's left after horses and dragons?" Arthur threw his hands up in exasperation.

The warlock chuckled, making his way over to the King. Now in front of Arthur, he could see an intense and thoughtful look in Merlin's faraway gaze. "Merlin?"

"I've never tried it, but it should work…" His former manservant muttered to himself, as though pondering an experiment. Arthur suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to know this third option.

But, before he could share his thoughts with Merlin, the warlock had grabbed a hold of his left shoulder.

"Whelp, here goes nothing."

"Mer-" Arthur was cut off as Merlin's eyes swirled with a brilliant gold, and he vaguely took notice of the Sidhe staff striking the ground, and the ancient words spilling from Merlin's lips. Wind blew in strong gusts around the pair, making an uneasy King reach again for Excalibur. His hand inched towards his scabbard, until it froze, as Merlin's eyes flashed brighter, and the world began spinning around them.

A bright light flashed before his eyes, blinding Arthur, and for a second, he panicked, losing sight of Merlin. But as quick as the light had come, it vanished. The King blinked back the stinging sensation left by the brightness. Looking in front of him, his panic immediately died. Merlin was there, one hand still on his shoulder. Sweeping his gaze past the warlock, he let out a quiet gasp.

It was the castle courtyard. In Camelot. They were in Camelot. Merlin had teleported them both right to the front doorstep of their home.

"Merlin-" Arthur went to look back down at his manservant, but his eyes caught the movement of the large wooden doors as they swung open. His wife, Queen Guinevere flew down the steps in a rush to get to her love. Him. Warmth filled his heart at the sight of her.

The hand disappeared from his shoulder, and Arthur rushed to embrace his Queen, all else forgotten from his mind.

* * *

><p>Merlin watched the reunion of Arthur and Gwen, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The joy of seeing his friend alive and healthy was overwhelming, and it seemed that way for the other servants and nobles in courtyard, as they too observed their royals reuniting. He smiled, the Golden Age of Albion would soon follow.<p>

Merlin re-gripped his staff, his exhaustion requiring him to use it as a support. He took deep, calming breaths, waiting for a wave of nausea to pass.

"-lin? Merlin."

Merlin's eyes flickered open, though he didn't recall closing them in the first place... His mentor and father figure stood before him, proud and happy tears shining in his eyes. "You did it, my boy." Gaius choked off on the last words, pulling his ward into a warm embrace. "You did it."

Merlin let out a sob into his mentor's shoulder, breaking into a grin as tears fell from his cheeks, "I brought him home Gaius. Everything's ok."

The relief in his words brought with them more tears, but both boy and old man were content to let them fall. Eventually Gaius pulled back, a physician's mask plastered across his features as he examined his ward, "Come on, let's get you up to your room, you can hardly stand."

Merlin simply nodded, too tired to reply with his usual words of assurance.

Gaius wrapped a tender hand around Merlin's arm, and the two started across the courtyard. Merlin took the first few steps before he realized the true depth of his weakness. He was halfway to the ground until the spinning world halted, and strong arms encircled his waist.

"Woah, easy."

Arthur's voice sounded in his ear, "let's get you back to Gaius's chambers before you faint like a little girl."

Merlin slid his gaze upward, and found his king's blue eyes staring down at him. "Sire?" _How'd he get here so fast?_ He was on the other side of the courtyard just a second ago… Merlin's thoughts seemed sluggish as he attempted to take control of his limbs.

"It's alright Merlin, I've got you." Arthur gave him a small smile. Behind him, Gwen stood with her hands clasped to her chest. The tear tracks glistening on her face as she watched her husband lift their best friend into his arms.

Merlin scowled, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks as he was shifted into Arthur's hold. "I feel fine. I _can_ walk, you know," he said indignantly.

"You just tried that _Mer_lin. We all saw how well that worked out for you."

Merlin huffed. "Put me down, I just needed a minute to get my bearings is all."

Arthur made no comment, and no move to get rid of the burden in his arms. Instead, the King made his way towards the large doors, taking care not to jostle Merlin as he climbed the stairs.

As they traveled down the corridors, Gaius's voice sounded from the other side of Arthur, and although Merlin couldn't see him, the worry in his voice was evident. "You'll have to lay him in my bed, Sire. Merlin's room is being occupied by another patient at the moment."

That got Merlin's attention. Since when had his bed become the sick room?

He looked up at Arthur, seeing the frown on his face, "Who?"

There was a pause before the physician replied. "Gwaine."

"How?" Arthur stopped in the corridor, and looked at the old man. Merlin tried to push his cheek off Arthur's chest, in an attempt to swivel his head in Gaius's direction. Arthur grunted, and hoisted his manservant higher in his arms, making Merlin's head flop back onto the armored body.

Gaius sighed, "After learning of Eira's betrayal, we sent a false message to Morgana in hopes that she would follow it. We had hoped that you would be able to get Arthur to Avalon without her in pursuit. But since we sent the message, we knew exactly where she'd be heading. Gwaine and Percival went out to try and kill Morgana… only, they were captured and Gwaine was tortured for your location. Percival was able to escape and bring Gwaine back to Camelot." Gaius faltered, deciding whether to continue with the bad news. "He's not doing well. Morgana tortured him with cruel methods of dark magic. I'm afraid that all I can do is make him comfortable, and try to ease his passing."

Merlin's breath caught in his throat. No, not Gwaine. He didn't come back to Camelot with a saved life, only to find out that another of his friends was going down the opposite path. He needed to get to Gwaine. There had to be something he could do. Merlin could feel his magic, and although it was weak from the strong spells he had used in the past few days, it would be enough to heal his friend. It had to be.

Merlin grunted, and pulled himself from Arthur's grasp. He gritted his teeth as his feet hit the ground, sending a jolt through his already nauseous stomach. His eyes had closed again—without him knowing about it, but once he reopened them, Merlin brushed off the concerned looks from his three companions. "I'm fine." Determination lit Merlin's eyes, daring them to try and protest. Arthur glared at him disapprovingly, but didn't move to help him. Gaius sighed, handing Merlin his staff.

"Alright, let's go."

Merlin leaned heavily on his staff, but he kept up in the lead of the group as they headed to the physician's tower.

By the time they had reached the wooden door, Merlin's muscles were burning, and his chest took in deep lungfuls of air in an attempt to compensate for his exhaustion. The warlock pushed open the door forcefully, bringing Percival—who sat at the table just moments earlier, to his feet.

"Merlin," Percival breathed, and then, "Arthur, you're back."

"How's Gwaine?"

Percival's smile sobered, "Not any worse, but he's still in pain."

The words hung in the air like a raincloud. Merlin strode forward towards his room, ignoring the worried call from his guardian, and flung the door open, only to stop short at the sight in front of him. Gwaine was so still, his chest barely rising and falling as the man lay in his comatose state.

"Oh, my friend, why did you try and take on Morgana?" He said softly, settling to his knees beside the bed. Merlin leaned his staff against the wall and took Gwaine's hand in his, "You were no match for her magic."

His throat choked on the whispered words as he stroked the knight's hand. Merlin pushed his nausea aside and closed his eyes. He could feel the dark magic coming off Gwaine in waves. It was strong—much stronger than he himself felt at the present moment, but he refused to dwell on that. Merlin took a few deep, meditative breaths, aware that his friends were now entering the room, lingering by the doorframe with a mix of concern and uncertainty. The warlock ignored them as best he could, and raised his hands over Gwaine's chest. Merlin's eyes flashed a bright gold, and a few gasps from the door told him that Gwen and Percival now knew his secret. A healing incantation sprang to mind, and the words rolled off his tongue.

"_Déaþscúa d__rýcræft líhting __úre __eorðgráp en __gelácne"*_

Merlin gasped as his magic collided with Morgana's. His nausea increased, but he forced it back down, willing himself to concentrate on his friend. A pain-filled moan escaped his lips and his brow furrowed with the effort of battling the hurtful magic. Merlin drew the dark magic from the knight's body, letting it form into a dark, hovering cloud above its unconscious victim.

"_Béo áflíemdede"*_

Again, he gasped, feeling his own magic leave his body in a forceful swell of power, extinguishing Morgana's hold on Gwaine as the mist evaporated.

His eyelids grew heavier as he slowly rested his hand on the side of the bed. Merlin watched Gwaine carefully, waiting with baited breath to see if he would awaken.

A soft grunt from the patient told him Gwaine was coming around. The knight's eyes flickered open, and after a second, found Merlin's relief-filled blue gaze.

"Hey mate, you're back."

Merlin chuckled softly, holding back a sob, "I told you everything would work out."

With that, Merlin's eyes rolled back into his head, and his upper body fell forward onto the bed.

* * *

><p>In a flash Arthur jumped forward, giving a shout as his friend fell unconscious, "Merlin!"<p>

He wrapped his arms around the warlock's thin waist, pulling him away from the bed and leaning him against his chest. He looked up at the worried faces above him,  
>"Gaius?" Arthur tried to stop the fear from creeping into his voice.<p>

"Get him to my bed, Sire." Gaius replied, his face transforming into his carefully controlled physician's mask.

"What's going on!—" Gwaine exclaimed, throwing the covers back and planting his feet on the worn wooden planks, "—and what's wrong with Merlin!" The knight grimaced as his vision attempted to adjust to his sitting position.  
>"Sir Gwaine, calm down—and don't move too fast." Gaius ordered, his concerned gaze flickered to the newly-healed knight before refocusing on his ward.<br>Gwaine scowled, clearly thinking about whether or not he should obey the physician, or risk another scolding.

"Percival, help Gwaine to the table please. If he must get up, I'd rather him stay seated," Gaius gave Gwaine a displeased look and followed Arthur out the door. Percival shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, before promptly obeying the physician's orders.

The group exited Merlin's room, seating themselves around the main chamber as Arthur placed his servant on the bed. A tense silence filled the air as Gaius stepped forward to examine his ward, removing the warlock's neckerchief and placing it on a small table.

After a few moments, Gaius spoke, "I believe he simply overexerted himself and passed out. Besides exhaustion, nothing else appears to be wrong."

Sighs of relief echoed in the silent chamber. Arthur released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. That idiot. He moved a hand to massage the bridge of his nose.

Seeing Arthur's distress, his wife came forward, her arm looping around his in a comforting gesture.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Gwaine's eyes flashed with anger—an anger that he directed towards his King, "what on earth did you make him do, Princess? Just because he didn't come to Camlann doesn't mean you can run him into the ground!"

Arthur was too stunned to reply. Did Gwaine really think Arthur would punish his servant for avoiding the battle? Luckily, Percival came to his rescue,

"Gwaine," he said hesitantly, "what exactly do you remember, about what happened after Camlann?"

All of Gwaine's anger dissipated at the quiet question, and Arthur watched his knight as the memories came flooding back into Gwaine's wide eyes.

"Morgana." He whispered, "she... I-I told her where you were heading..." His voice filled with self-loathing, "Arthur, I'm so sorry... I failed you."

The young king crossed the floor, placing his hands over the shaking ones of his knight, "There is nothing to be sorry for. No one could resist what she put you through. All that matters is that you are alive, and Morgana is dead."

The occupants of the room gasped.

"She's dead?!"

Arthur noticed his wife had gone stiff at his knight's exclamation, and mentally kicked himself. Of course he hadn't thought to break it to Gwen gently. Morgana had been many things—mostly terrible things in the last few years, but at one point, she had been Gwen's friend.

"Are you certain, Sire?" The relief in Percival's tone brought the King back from his thoughts.

Arthur nodded, catching the way Gaius looked towards Merlin. He knew Arthur had been in no condition to take on the witch, only leaving one conclusion. "Yes, she was run through... by Merlin."

A shocked silence filled the room, disturbed only by the fire that popped in the hearth.

Percival opened his mouth, then shut it again, unsure of where to begin. "Si—"  
>The question was cut off, however, as the door burst open, revealing a panting, curly haired knight.<p>

"Sire!" Leon was smiling, one hand against the door and another resting on the pommel of his sword, "you're alive!" He quickly moved into the room and closed the gap between himself and the King, clasping his arm with the one Arthur extended.

"Alive and well, Leon," Arthur smiled at the concern his Captain of the Guard displayed at his return.

Then, Leon stepped back, uncertainly, "There were reports of you suddenly appearing in the courtyard, as if by... magic."

The knight glanced at Merlin on the last word, and then quickly turned away; however, Arthur saw it for what it was. He knew Merlin's secret, and he suspected that by now, half his kingdom did as well—or, they would, in a matter of hours. Word of the King and his manservant's return would spread through the lower town like a wildfire.

Damn Merlin, always finding way to make his life more difficult... he was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he stopped acting like a girl and woke up.

Arthur sighed, taking the time to survey the reactions of those around him. Percival, having only just seen Merlin's handiwork a few moments earlier, looked as though he was trying to fit the pieces together; Gaius exchanged a knowing look with Gwen. _Not sure what that's about... _Arthur mentally reminded himself to ask her about that later. But Gwaine—Gwaine met Arthur's gaze, surprising him. The rogue-ish knight cocked his head toward the unconscious servant, his eyes almost daring Arthur to make a move.

Oh.

Gwaine thought he was going to turn on Merlin.

"So that's what this is about? Merlin's magic?" The longhaired knight questioned.

To his right, Gaius stiffened. Hearing those words out loud was something Gaius had no doubt been anxious about since the moment he had known of his ward's magic. It was an understandable reaction; for many years, that connection would have sent the boy to his death.

Then, the actual question hit Arthur. Had Merlin told Gwaine his secret? Hurt and understanding fought for control in his mind. He couldn't blame Merlin for trusting Gwaine—they were close friends after all, but Arthur felt jealous of their closeness. Regret filled his heart, _if only I'd given him more of a reason to trust me._

Shifting his feet underneath him, Arthur walked back toward the table and sat down across from Gwaine. He cleared his throat, "He told you?"

The knight actually grinned at that, "Nah, I just put two and two together. The falling branches, opponents losing swords and tripping on tree roots—it was a bit too much luck. Then there were all those creatures we've faced with unbeatable odds, Merlin's funny feelings, and his impossible survival of the Dorocha. Once I was looking for it, it was easy to see—he's really not that discreet. I'm actually surprised he's managed to hide it for this long."

Gaius visibly relaxed, appreciation filling his expression at the knight's acceptance of his ward's talent. Gwen put a gentle hand on Merlin's forehead, brushing hair away from his eyes. Merlin had been protecting them, all this time.

"Did you tell _him_ you know?" Gaius asked, curious. He knew that since Lancelot's death, his ward had greatly missed the ability to share his magic with someone nearer to his own age.

"I was waiting until he was ready to tell me—I think he almost did, on our way to the Valley of the Fallen Kings… but magic and all, I trust him." He gave a pointed glare to Arthur.

The physician nodded, seemingly oblivious to the tense air surrounding Gwaine and Arthur, and reached over from his seat by the bed to pat Merlin's hand.

At his mentor's touch, Merlin shifted, letting out a low whimper. Gaius placed a hand on his ward's forehead and closed his eyes. "Forgive me, Sire. I know that magic is still illegal, and I do not make a habit of using it... but, for Merlin..." He sighed, opening his eyes. A glint of sadness appeared as he looked at Arthur, "He has seen many things while protecting you… Merlin suffers from terrible nightmares—reliving visions of Camlann that he was granted by a powerful Seer, and of the looming presence of Uther's pyre. After seeing the vision of you, Sire, falling in battle come true, I fear they will only be worse."

Then, after a sigh, a bold, yet resigned strength entered into Gaius' voice, "I will provide any comfort I can offer him, and a dreamless sleep will help replenish his energy faster."

Without warning, the physician turned toward the squirming warlock, words of the Old religion tumbling out of his mouth. Then, with a final, breathy "no", Merlin's anguished whispers faded away, and he fell into a deeper sleep.

The knights, royals, and physician were silent for a few minutes, each choosing to reflect on their own thoughts. The fact that their Court Physician had just used magic was yet another shock to add to the list of things they'd discovered that day.

Arthur looked at Merlin, now lying still on the cot. It was then that the question popped into his head,

"Gaius, I was wondering... why did he not come with us to Camlann?"

Gaius sighed, "That is a long story, which requires a fair amount of time and patience to tell, and it is getting far too late for such. No doubt you are still exhausted from the battle. Let me check you over, then you should get some rest." The physician rose from his chair, "Merlin will likely sleep through the night and into the day. Come by tomorrow and I will try to explain what I can."

Arthur nodded, knowing that Gaius was right. They had had enough revelations for one day. Everything else could wait.

* * *

><p>Arthur and Gwen had been the last to exit the physician's tower, leaving Gaius and Gwaine to keep vigil over Merlin. Now, as the royal couple made the journey to the chambers, they were content to walk silently, arm in arm. A few servants passed them in the corridors, but none made the effort to stare or comment on the King and Queen's unusual closeness in public. They had noticed it for sure, but who were they to try and understand the feelings the royals were working through? After the fierce battle that had just occurred, the sight of both together was a miracle in and of itself. Arthur noticed the servants' quick glances as he led his queen to their chambers, but simply chose to ignore them. The warmth of Gwen beside him banished the headache he had felt coming on earlier. All he could focus on was his wife, and the happiness of being by her side.<br>Finally, Gwen quietly broke the corridor's silence.

"Was it hard? To see Merlin for what he truly is?" Her voice was curious and light, and yet beneath all that, there was a serious desire for an answer. Arthur knew she was trying hard to work through Merlin's magic. When he didn't respond right away, Gwen filled in the real issue. "Gaius told me as much, that Merlin was the old sorcerer at Camlann, but I guess I had never reconciled that magic with Merlin, until you returned today." She sighed, "I can't help but feel that I barely know Merlin, even after this past decade."

Arthur gazed down at his queen, "Guinevere, listen to me." His voice was hushed, but the strength behind it pulled his wife from her thoughts.

"I understand what you must be feeling. The entire trip to Avalon, I held mistrust for the man. I said some things… I know I gave Merlin what he didn't deserve. But I was angry, I too felt like I didn't know him. I mean, who can hide such a large part of themselves, only to have it come out and then not change everything? It's impossible." He squeezed Gwen's arm, letting a small sigh escape his lips. "But I've come to realize that I was wrong. We've known Merlin—the wise, cheeky, selfless idiot, for these past ten years, only we just didn't know why he is the way he is… and now we know. His magic defines him, and while I never knew it was magic, I have always known there was something special about him-" He lowered his voice another level as they approached their chambers, "-so yes, it was hard at first, but I now understand that magic has changed nothing about our Merlin. And in time, you will come to realize this as well."

The king stopped outside their doors for a short moment, nodding in greeting to the guards at their posts. Relieved smiles grew on their faces, happy to be opening the doors for both king and queen once again.

Once inside, the couple finally had the privacy they had lacked since Arthur's return. He pulled his wife into his arms, stroking her back gently. "No more talk of Merlin, my love. There has been enough of that today, and there will be more tomorrow. This is our time of peace, together."

Arthur felt Gwen nod against his shoulder. His heart swelled at the thought of holding his wife; it was a feeling he had been certain he'd never feel again. But now, here he was, holding her in his arms. He had never been happier to be so wrong.

Eventually, he pulled back, though remained close to her. "I love you Guinevere."

She smiled, beginning to remove Arthur's over-shirt as she murmured back, "I love you too."

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><p>AN: Well, that's all for now. Please continue to let me know what you think! Thanks again for all of your support, you guys are awesome!<p>

*spell translates as "dark magic release your hold and heal."  
>*"be dispersedgone."

Next update will be before October 3rd.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you so much to those of you who continue to favorite, review, and follow this story. You guys are the best!

And here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin

* * *

><p>By the time Arthur, Gwen, and the Round Table Knights returned to the physician's chambers, the sun had risen well above the castle walls. Arthur had been up since the early hours, meeting with the council to discuss Camlann and the aftermath, as well as making plans for the funeral and a feast in honor of the lives lost to the great battle. Now that the nobles were satisfied and preparations were under way, he could see to unraveling the mystery of his servant.<p>

"Sire, My Lady," Gaius greeted, looking up from the herbs he was grinding, "Please, sit down. We have much to discuss." The old man put down the pestle and walked over to join them. Gwaine was already seated at the table, munching on an apple.

"He's still sleeping?" Arthur glanced at Merlin, watching as his chest rose and fell in even breaths.

"Yes, although, like I said, I expected as much." Gaius replied, "He will likely sleep for a few more hours, given the amount of energy he expended the last few days."

The confidence in which Gaius said this made Arthur uneasy. "So you mean to say that something like this has happened before?"

The physician paused. "A few times, yes. Although he has never exhausted himself to the point of fainting before, Merlin has, on more than one occasion, severely pushed the limits of his magic. Usually he falls asleep on his own—whether it's because he finds time to sleep, or I slipped him a sleeping draught. But there's no need to worry—he will wake when his magic has sufficiently recovered."

There was a slight pause as Gaius placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, "Merlin's magic is different—it's instinctual, elemental. While ordinary sorcerers develop their talents in their later years, or youth, Merlin did not. He was born with magic, condemned by Uther's laws the moment he drew breath—and in my knowledge, the only one to ever have such a beginning. For all intents and purposes, he _is_ magic."

Gaius briefly held out a hand for emphasis, palm up. "When they cast a spell, magic users draw from the magic of the things around them. Merlin draws from the magic inside him, which is constantly replenishing itself. The amount of power and skill he possesses has never been heard of before... for instance—" Gaius' voice inflected, eager to finally reveal the true nature of his ward, "—Incantations that take years of study for normal sorcerers, Merlin has learned in a day; for many spells, he doesn't even need words.

But, he's also unique, because of his heritage as a Dragonlord. As the last Dragonlord in existence, he commands the obedience of the Great Dragon—Kilgharrah, and the white dragon that fought with Morgana at Camlann, Aithusa."

"A Dragonlord," Gwen whispered in awe, her voice barely audible to those around her. Gwaine let out a low whistle.

The physician nodded, letting that information sink into their minds before he continued, "The Druids have a prophecy, written long before any of us were born, that speaks of a sorcerer named Emrys," Arthur nodded in affirmation, giving Gaius an indication that Merlin had already told him this, "He is prophesied to be the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth—past, present, and future; the foretold protector of the Once and Future King, who is destined to unite the land of Albion and create a kingdom of peace for all… to those of the magical community, Merlin is called Emrys."  
>Gwaine sighed, awe creeping into his voice, "Our little Merlin, who would've known."<p>

At the far side of the table, Leon bent forward, "Does that mean that Arthur is this, Once and Future King?"

Percival chimed in from where he was leaning against the wall, "I've heard Merlin refer to him as such before."

Gaius simply nodded, "Indeed, he is. It is Arthur's destiny, to rule Albion."

A silence filled the room, each individual thinking of the monumental future that lay ahead for Camelot.

The old man turned his gaze towards Arthur, "Now that you know of Merlin, Destiny can truly begin her work," Gaius's eyes filled with fatherly pride for the King and his manservant. "After Merlin received the vision of your fall at Camlann, we feared this day would never come. He doubted he would be able to stop the vision from coming true, as it has happened in the past—" he wiped a tear from his eye, sniffling slightly, "—but that is Merlin's story to tell. For now, we have much to discuss about Camlann."

"It all started days before the battle, with the night he joined you in the tavern, Sire. Contrary to popular belief, Merlin is almost never in the tavern," Gaius let out a small chuckle, "That was just a cover, which I unfortunately admit to coming up with. Since then, you have always assumed—much to Merlin's annoyance, that the tavern was where Merlin had gone when he couldn't be found within the castle. In truth, he was usually out facing some magical threat to Camelot, or pursuing leads on Morgana."

"Wait a minute. Are you saying that Merlin's alibi was the _tavern_, and no one thought to ask me?!" Gwaine exclaimed, amusement evident in his tone, "The only time Merlin is ever in the tavern is to get me out of it!"

Arthur scowled, but stayed silent. The rest of the group all wore smiles at the true ridiculousness of the warlock's alibi, and, at the idea of their king believing such a thing. This was _Merlin_ they were talking about, after all.

"But that is besides the point. We'll never get through this if my old mind keeps wandering..." Gaius cleared his throat. "All druids are able to recognize Merlin as Emrys, and Mordred was no exception. When he joined Morgana, he gave her Merlin's druidic name. It is said Emrys is to be her destiny, and her doom; she has been fearful of Emrys since she first learned of his part in her fate. It was out of this fear that, when she discovered Merlin to be Emrys, she struck out.

That night, Merlin came home to a trap set by Morgana. Although he is usually alert for these sorts of happenings, I believe the lateness of the hour, as well as the ale stopped him from recognizing the danger. In his room, Merlin was attacked by a Gean Canach—a beast that suffocates a sorcerer and sucks away his magic. I had been knocked out, and it was only after Merlin had struggled with the beast, that I awoke and was able to kill it. When he came to, we realized it had done something far worse than cause temporary suffocation; the creature stole Merlin's magic."

Gwen gasped, her hand tightening its grip on Arthur's bicep. He himself stiffened. His best friend had been through so much pain, and he had never known about it. How had Merlin hid something like that leading up to Camlann?

With shame, Arthur realized that he _had_ noticed Merlin's somber and frantic mood, but had never thought to attribute it to something other than nerves at the coming battle. He had never even considered trying to make Merlin feel better—even if he had misunderstood the reasons for his behavior.

When would he ever feel like he deserved Merlin as a friend? Arthur rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, trying to loosen the kink there, and turned his attention back to Gaius's story.

"Merlin knew that in order to protect Arthur from Mordred, he would need his magic. That is why he asked Gwaine to help him reach the Crystal Cave; it is the birthplace of magic, and one of the only options we could think to try. Merlin was desperate. Though even if he had failed to regain his magic, know that Merlin would have gone to battle and done everything he could to protect you, Arthur."

The young King fought back the continued feelings of shame that washed over him. He had insulted Merlin. When he had first learned he was not coming to Camlann, Arthur had practically called his best friend a coward; the fear of being alone had blinded him of his manservant's needs. _Never again_, Arthur promised himself.

Looking up, he realized he wasn't the only one struggling with this new information. Shame, guilt, and other feelings Arthur couldn't place, resided in the eyes of his knights and queen. They all felt as though they had abandoned their cheeky friend.

Arthur turned his gaze towards Gaius, and immediately knew that he too saw the conflicting emotions. Gaius nodded in sympathy, and tried to alleviate the present feelings.

"I fear he also hid the worst of it from me."

That got everyone's attention. They weren't the only ones Merlin had hidden himself from—the warlock protected his guardian with secrets, just as much as he had them. They were _all _in the dark, at some point.

Gaius gave them a smile of understanding. "Since the beginning, I have suspected that Merlin's magic plays a vital role in his body. Magic is as natural to him as breathing. When his physical energy fails, his body unconsciously transforms magic into energy—I have seen him go many days without sleep in this way, although I doubt it does anything beneficial for his health."

"When the Gean Canach took his magic, I believe it did more than physically weaken him. Although he hid it well, Merlin began showing signs of illness—sluggishness, shaking hands, and sweat on his brow, that told me it bothered him. He probably would have died, eventually, had he not gotten his magic back; I don't believe his body could live without it, indefinitely."

Stunned silence followed Gaius's observations. Merlin would die without his magic? He had been sick? Various questions flitted about in the minds of the knight and royals. There was so much to their warlock that they didn't know.

Arthur took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do you think he understands that—Merlin, I mean?"

Gaius nodded. "I believe that he knows, and purposefully keeps it from me. He used to tell me everything of magical occurrence in his life, but as Destiny thickened, Merlin distanced himself from me. I suppose he didn't want to burden me with anything else to worry about." The physician looked over at his ward, fondness shining from his misty eyes. "In the past few years, we haven't discussed much of his side of your combined destiny. It frightens him, I think, to be a part of something so large, and yet be all alone in his burden." Gaius's hands rose in a sign of resignation. "I presume his druidic name, Emrys, has been a cause of much of that fear."

The conversation Arthur had with Merlin on Avalon sprung to mind. "On the Isle, Merlin told me that the name means 'immortal' in the Old Tongue."

Gaius looked surprised for a moment, clearly not expecting Arthur to know this, but then he nodded slowly. "Yes, immortal." He sighed, "It is a lonely life, to know that all whom you love will die and you must live on. Merlin has spent many days depressed by such thoughts."

Arthur frowned, his brow creasing in thought. "What if, he doesn't have to worry about that anymore? When we were at Avalon, Merlin made a deal with the Sidhe king, bargaining his immortality for my life."

Gaius looked at him, incredulously, while the remainder of the room's occupants watched from wide eyes. Immortality was most definitely something they hadn't expected to find in their conversations.

"That idiot of a boy, did he have any idea what he was doing?!" Gaius's worry laced every word he spoke. He closed his eyes, and then took a few calming breaths. When his eyes opened again, Arthur noticed a light of hope shining beneath his worry. "But if what you say is true, it is quite possible that burden has now been lifted from him… and to say that I am relieved is an understatement. Immortality is a burden I would wish upon no man."

Gwen sighed softly, "All these years, we never knew. Our Merlin is much stronger than we've given him credit for."

The others simply nodded, each making silent promises to themselves to be there for their friend.

Arthur put a hand to the bridge of his nose, before turning his blue-grey gaze back to the wise physician. "Gaius, how did Merlin get his magic back in the first place?"

Gaius's lips pulled into a thin frown. "That, I am unsure of, Sire. I have barely spoken to him since he left for the Cave. I am assuming something happened to him while there, but that is only what I can guess."

Arthur accepted the explanation with a curt nod. They would have to wait for Merlin to answer that one.

Suddenly, Arthur's ears picked up a sound from the corner of the room. Merlin. His eyes shot over to his manservant,

"Gaius!"

Shifting in his bed, Merlin's brow was creased, and a thin sheen of sweat was beginning to form on his face.

"He's waking up."

Merlin's movements became more restless, the blankets twisting in his hands, this time accompanied by a soft moan, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he mumbled repeatedly.

Within a few more apologies, the young man had maneuvered his blankets off his body, and had curled in on himself. Then, after a few moments of silence, the warlock's voice made the rooms other occupants jump,

"Arthur!" Merlin cried out, jolting forward and tumbling over the side of the bed. He landed hard on his shoulder earning a yelp of pain. But before anyone could help him back to the bed, the warlock was already up, springing into a kneeling position, with his head down and arms outstretched, fingers splayed on the stone floor. Bottles burst on the shelves and the fire flared briefly. Merlin let his head fall further forward, resting his forehead on the floor as he sucked in deep lungfuls of air.

Quicker than anyone his age should be able to move, Gaius plucked a bottle off the shelf and knelt beside his ward. The young man was so absorbed in his nightmare he probably wasn't aware he had company.

"It was only a dream Merlin." Gaius coaxed, making the boy jump, "drink this—it will help with the headache."

Merlin nodded slowly, reaching for the bottle without lifting his head. Quickly, he tossed back the liquid and then returned to the same downward position, placing the vial on the floor.

"What was this one about?" Gaius waited patiently for the answer,

"Arthur. I couldn't save him." He whispered, the agony in his voice unbearable. "I couldn't—"

"Sshhh, it wasn't real Merlin, Arthur is alright. You saved him."

The warlock nodded, taking another deep breath as he sought to reconcile the truth with his nightmares. Arthur watched in horror as Gaius talked Merlin out of panic. The familiarity to which both ward and physician struggled with the nightmare broke the King's heart. Would his death really affect his manservant so? Was Merlin that burdened by Destiny? Would fate really be so cruel to the Once and Future King's protector? Arthur felt Gwen's comforting hand in his, but he was far past such comfort. He felt guilty for it. Arthur had his wife by his side, while Merlin had struggled through both reality and his dreams, alone, all for the sake of Arthur's protection. Gaius was some comfort to Merlin, but there was no way to truly understand another's dream. Merlin was alone with his demons.

Gaius was still speaking softly to his ward, but now that Merlin's breathing had calmed, he had time to focus on other aspects of the warlock, "Now come, let's get you cleaned up, I know you hurt your shoulder—you can't hide that from me."

Although Merlin's head was still down, Arthur saw the smile that comment had caused. The King knew from experience how hard it was to hide an injury from the Court Physician.

Gaius moved to grab a few more bottles from his cabinet as he assumed his commanding physician's tone, "Take off your shirt."

Merlin sighed, but willingly complied, his hands still trembling slightly as he grabbed the hem of the garment. The others sat in silence, continuing to go unnoticed by the servant. But as Merlin pulled off his tunic, Arthur bit down on his lip, hard; it was all the king could do to hold in a gasp. Merlin's bare chest revealed multiple large bruises, stretching around his front to the back of his shoulders.

"Gods above boy, how did you manage that?" Gaius prodded the contusions, making Merlin wince.

"When I was in the Crystal Cave, Morgana thought it fun to toss me around like a rag doll." He let out a dark chuckle, "it was terribly naïve of her to believe that a few bruises and a cave-in would stop me."

The room was blanketed in a tense silence, the knights and royals unsure of whether to make their presences known, and Gaius, not sure of how to respond to Merlin's statement. Shaking his head, he opted for the physician route. Taking a salve in hand, Gaius spread the cold ointment over Merlin's bruises. The warlock flinched under the cold touch, but he continued to let his mentor work, knowing it would be better in the end.

As Gaius kept up his ministrations, Arthur's eyes traveled across Merlin's torso. And this time, he was unable to hold back his gasp of surprise. First, because he realized in all the years he had known Merlin, Arthur had never seen the man shirtless; the second, because Merlin was _covered_ in scars. Arthur couldn't pull his eyes from the small white lines traveling across the sorcerer's already pale body. A speckled scar covered his left shoulder, while further down, were a few blade-like marks that were too long and white to have been training accidents. Then there was the large, puckered burn mark in the center of his chest. Someone had attacked Merlin with fire. That one, Arthur knew definitively, had come from his role of protector—there was no other way to explain what was clearly a battle wound.

At the sound of the shocked gasp, Merlin's head shot up, his eyes visible to the party for the first time since he had fallen unconscious. A brief look of panic crossed Merlin's face before the warlock schooled his features into a carefully created mask. His body tensed, and he quickly reached for his discarded shirt.

"Don't." Arthur commanded. "Leave it."

Merlin's hand froze over the red shirt, then, resigned to obey the order, Merlin placed the hand back on his lap, his nervousness causing him to clench his fist into the fabric of his trousers.

Arthur stood while the others remained motionless in their spots. He took a few deep breaths to reign in his anger, and then pointed at Merlin's torso. "What is all this?" he breathed.

Merlin bit his lower lip, a habit he often adopted when nervous—or cornered, about something. "Ah-um…" The warlock cleared his throat, pushing his shoulders back to sit a little straighter, "these are the marks of Destiny."

The words were spoken softly, but the meaning behind them hit Arthur like a sharp weapon. He again, had been the cause of Merlin's pain, except this time there was physical evidence.

"Each scar—" Merlin continued, "—is one that I have been able to spare you, Arthur. And I don't regret any of them." He tacked the last part on, looking straight at his king, eyes blazing with protectiveness.

"Merlin," Arthur murmured, "I have caused you so much pain."

The conversation on the Isle came to mind, Merlin telling him he had already forgiven him. But this was too much. How could Merlin, with all those scars, freely give that forgiveness? Arthur sank to the floor beside his manservant, his mind completely spent.

Merlin placed a gentle hand on the king's knee, "None that I was unwilling to bear. I was born to protect you Arthur, and that will never change."

No, it wouldn't. The determination in Merlin's eyes told him what he needed to know. Merlin would always be _his_ warlock.

A cough from the other side of the room, startled both warlock and king from their reverie, making them look up.

Gwaine pushed himself off the table, turning around on the bench so that he was facing the two men on the floor. "Care to, ah, explain some of those scars, Merlin? A couple of them look like they'll have a crazy tale to go along with, eh?"

Merlin let out a nervous chuckle, he had forgotten about the knights… and Gwen. Merlin's gaze shifted to the queen, noting with a wince, the tear tracks that had dried down her cheeks.

She too, was curious about Merlin's secret adventures, but at the same time, was hesitant to hear them. Each story most likely involved a great deal of pain that Merlin had borne alone. Guilt and sadness tore at her heart, imagining Merlin suffering alone. Then her thoughts shifted to the previous night's conversation she had had with Arthur. Would this change her Merlin? Would she still be able to see the man she had called a friend the last ten years, in this new protector?

Merlin, unable to see the complexities of her thoughts, moved his gaze to his mentor. Gaius gave his ward an encouraging smile. Merlin pulled his lips into a thin smile, and glanced at Arthur before he began. "I will answer any questions you have for me."

"No lies?" Arthur asked, hesitantly.

Hurt flashed in Merlin's eyes, and Arthur immediately regretted his choice of words, but the warlock quickly replaced his mask before nodding again. "No lies."

A short pause in conversation left the room in silence, making Merlin feel self-conscious. The knights were all staring at his pale chest, wondering which scar to comment on first. Arthur, however, knew exactly where to start. With a twinge of guilt, he pointed to Merlin's shoulder, "A mace scar. I gave that one to you, didn't I?"

Gwen's eyes went wide, and Gwaine growled under his breath. Merlin though, simply smiled. "The second time we met, when we had our mace fight in the lower town."

"I didn't think I had hit you that hard."

"I didn't think so either, if that makes you feel any better, Sire," Merlin chuckled, "Although to be fair, I was using most of my concentration to try and keep you from taking my head off."

Concentration. The way Merlin had said the word implied something…

"You used magic!" Arthur said, incredulous. "Someone could have seen you!"

Merlin seemed to find that funny, his laugher lightening up the somber atmosphere of the room.

"Come on Arthur, nobody saw anything. Besides, they were too busy watching their prat of a prince beat up an innocent servant."

Arthur playfully punched Merlin in the arm, "You're unbelievable."

"Hey, I warned you."

Arthur thought back to that day in the lower town, just over a decade ago. Merlin's younger self flashed in his mind,

"_I could take you apart with one blow."_

"_I could take you apart with less than that."_

"Good gods, Merlin, you practically admitted to sorcery to the Crown Prince! You're such an idiot!"

"Well you never caught on, so who's really the idiot here?" came the cheeky response.

_Someone's feeling better_, Arthur thought.

"Alright," Leon spoke from his spot at the table, trying to get the king and warlock back on track, "how about the burn? Where'd you get something like that?"

Merlin immediately sobered, "Nimueh."

Arthur's eyes narrowed, "The sorceress? The one who poisoned you?"

Merlin nodded. "It was when you were bitten by the Questing Beast. You were dying, Arthur; the bite from a Questing Beast is always lethal." Merlin dragged a hand across the stone floor, tracing the rough edges with his fingertips. "I went to the Isle of the Blessed, and attempted to trade my life for yours, only, due to my destiny, Nimueh chose my mother instead. She came to Camelot sick and exhausted—nearly dead." Merlin's hands clenched into fists, "so I returned to the Isle in order to give my life for hers. This time, Gaius had beat me to it, and was already leaning against the altar… dead." Looks of alarm spread across the room, but Merlin continued before anyone could interrupt. "I got mad, and so I challenged Nimueh, ordering her to bring back Gaius. That, ah, didn't go over well, so we fought. I won, and used her life to satisfy the powers of Life and Death, bringing back Gaius in the process." Merlin shrugged. "End of story."

"Wow, mate. You really know how to complicate things." Gwaine lowered his cup of water onto the table in front of him.

"Tell me about it."

"It was an exhausting chain of events, that's for certain." Gaius commented, putting the lid on the salve that had been forgotten during the conversation. He gave Merlin's back a once-over, and then addressed his ward, "Any other bruises you aren't telling me about?"

Merlin twisted to look back at his guardian, shaking his head. "No, that's it. Thank you Gaius."

The warlock turned back around only to be met with the confused eyes of Percival. "Uh, Merlin, when did you encounter Serkets?"

"Serkets?" Merlin blanched, his voice raising an octave higher than normal.

"Yeah," Percival point to Merlin's back. "When you turned around just now, I noticed you have the scar of a Serket sting on your lower back."

Arthur's eyebrows practically went up into his hairline. "What?!"

He pulled at Merlin's waist, so that his back was visible to him. Sure enough, a stab-like scar marred his flesh, with faint black veins spreading out into the surrounding tissue. Arthur had seen the fresh mark of a Serket's sting before, but never as a scar, and especially not on a living person. To royalty and commoner alike, the Serket's poison was renowned for promising a slow and painful death to its paralyzed victim. "_When,_ was this?!"

"Calm down Arthur, no need to shout." Merlin shifted so that his back was to Gaius, knowing that he had already seen and come to terms with the scar many years ago. He then stared at Arthur, waiting for his king to calm down before he continued. "Remember, on the Isle, when I told you Kilgharrah had saved my life a few times? That was one of those times." He stopped, as though his answer explained everything and made perfect sense.

Arthur made a face back at his manservant, motioning with his hands, "Well, what happened?"

"It was right before the attack of the undead soldiers, the ones Morgause and Morgana had brought to life. I had followed Morgana into the woods, and they found me. I couldn't fight back without revealing my magic, so Morgause bound me in chains and left me in the Darkling Woods. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that they were enchanted until I tried to free myself; they grew tighter with every spell I tried. Eventually the Serkets came. I fought off most of them, but I missed one, and it got me on my back. It was then that I called for Kilgharrah, and he was able to remove the chains and heal me."

"You didn't think to call the dragon before the scorpion creatures of death found you?" Gwaine tilted his head in question.

The warlock raised his eyebrows at Gwaine's knowledge of Kilgharrah, glancing at his mentor. They stared at each other for a moment, before Merlin nodded, obviously figuring out that Gaius had told his friends about the dragon.

"Well—" he retorted sheepishly, "—it wasn't really the first thing on my mind at that moment. The threat of an impending battle kind of helped me forget about Kilgharrah."

"Only you, Merlin." Gwaine laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. The room went silent as the stories were absorbed. Gwaine, Percival, and Leon had moved their eyes to the table, while Arthur had begun to play with the hem of his right sleeve. Merlin couldn't see Gaius from his spot on the floor, but he wasn't worried about that, after all, Gaius already knew most of what he had revealed. With no one else having any questions for Merlin, he again, reached for his shirt.

Relief filled his gaze once the tunic was over his head; he felt less exposed once the scars were covered.

Then, looking to his left, Merlin let his blue gaze slip to the queen. Gwen's brow was furrowed, and she was unconsciously biting her lower lip.

"Gwen?" he said softly, trying not to startle her.

She looked up, her eyes widening with a question as she met Merlin's kaleidoscopic blue ones. "Yes Merlin?"

Merlin's eyes slid to the floor, where his hands were playing along the stones, before he brought them back up to her. "What is it you want to ask?" He knew the look Gwen wore on her face. It was the same one that she had worn countless other times when Merlin had done some bizarre thing, and yet, this was the first time Merlin was willing to let her ask the question.

"I just, well, I was wondering how you were able to defeat the Fomorroh." Gwen's voice was hesitant, but the curiosity behind it was clear.

Merlin inhaled sharply; he had forgotten about that scar, after talking about so many of the others.

Seeing Merlin's distress, Gwen spluttered, "Oh Merlin, I shouldn't have asked. We can talk about it some other time, if you're not ready."

"F-o-marr-ah?" Arthur attempted, suddenly very confused. How was it that his wife knew of this clearly magical being?

Self-loathing filled Merlin's eyes, dulling them with remorse and killing the usual spark of cheeriness. "Fomorroh. It's one of the darkest creatures of the Old Religion, a snake-like creature that is able to consume the will of anything it… inhabits. A Fomorroh can make a man forget everything—his friendships, loyalties, his own self even, all for the sake of accomplishing the will of whoever commands it."

A low growl emanated from the back of Gwaine's throat, while Arthur still looked at Merlin, utterly lost.

A dark chuckle escaped Merlin's lips, and he watched Arthur still trying to understand where this was going.

"You remember when I was injured on that patrol? The one where you found me in a bog a few days later?"

Arthur clenched his jaw, telling Merlin that he clearly remembered the instance.

"Yes, well, it was Morgana's men who took me. I woke up in her hovel—courtesy of an angry witch and a water pail, and found myself tied to the roof." Arthur's stomach dropped at the thought of Merlin being strung up in such a fashion, and if the grunts of the knights were anything to go by, they didn't enjoy that image either. But Merlin shook his head, his eyes staring off into space as he relived the memory. "We ah, exchanged a few words, and then she healed me. I was confused as to why… well, until she conjured the Fomorroh. I don't remember too much after that; Morgana talked for a bit—most likely explaining and gloating about her plan, and then she… well…" Merlin pushed his hands to the floor, using them to spin his front towards Gaius. He then used a thumb to lower the back of his tunic, exposing the pale flesh of his neck. Arthur looked closely at the skin, sucking in a breath when he found the straight sliver of a surgical scar.

"That snake was in your neck?!" Gwaine beat Arthur to the exclamation.

The warlock nodded stiffly, his eyes flickering between stone and remorse as he maneuvered to face the group again. "It—I… I was ordered to kill you, Arthur, and I was too weak to stop it from controlling me."

A rush of concern and protectiveness swelled in Arthur, making him place a hand on his manservant's shoulder. "You weren't yourself," he explained, "there is only Morgana to blame for your actions."

"But I _should_ have been able to stop her!" Merlin choked out, "Had I killed you Arthur… I couldn't have lived with that."

"But you didn't. I'm still here, and you were able to stop her. _That's_ what matters now." Arthur couldn't bear to see so much self-loathing in those shattering blue eyes—those eyes that showed Arthur the pure heart of his servant. The ones that would turn a brilliant gold…

Arthur's gaze widened. "Merlin."

The warlock sniffled, and assuming that was a cue for the King to continue, he pressed on. "Merlin, you did stop her. While you were under her spell, you _never_ _once_ used magic, correct?"

The words came out in a faster, more excited pace at the end, as understanding dawned in Merlin's eyes.

"You could have ended my life in a heartbeat, but you didn't. You _must_ have fought her." Pride laced Arthur's words, his eyes latching on to Merlin. "Don't sell yourself short, Merlin. Even then, you saved my life."

A shaky breath escaped the warlock's lips, and not trusting himself to answer with words, Merlin simply nodded.

"I have been telling Merlin that for years, Sire. I'm glad he's finally taken to believing it." Gaius looked past his ward and at his sovereign, gratitude filling his gaze. Arthur gave him a small smile in return.

"But, Merlin. Once Gaius removed the snake, how did it stay… dead?" Gwen's inquisitive stare was back, and it wasn't long before the warlock was talking. Arthur, however, felt like he was thrown back into the dark. _Stay_ dead?

"Well, after Gaius subdued it, I was able to track down Morgana and kill the beast. We battled—though I was in disguise, and once she was knocked unconscious, I threw the Mother Beast into the fire."

"That's it?" Gwaine snorted, obviously expecting another tall tale of magical descriptions and dangerous feats.

Merlin chuckled, "When you're body takes on the creaking of an eighty year old man, you'll realize how wrong that statement is."

The warlock's cheeky answer earned a laugh from everyone in the room. After a few moments, the silence began again, and Merlin wasn't sure how to react. Since he had woken up, he had been revealing secret after secret to his friends. The warlock could only hope that they were truly taking it as well as they seemed to be on the outside.

Gaius cast a quick glance at his ward,

"Alright, I think we've had enough questions for now." The physician stood, grunting at the stiffness in his back as he did so. "Merlin's no doubt hungry and overwhelmed."

Merlin, who had gotten to his feet when his mentor did, shuffled, awkwardly staring at the floor when his stomach growled in agreement.

Arthur nodded, quickly coming to the guilty realization of how Merlin must be feeling, "I must address the people tonight," Arthur looked around at his knights, "but all of you meet me in the council chambers an hour before sunset. Then we'll decide where to go from there."

It was everyone else's turn to nod, and then, the knights realizing Arthur had dismissed them, left the physician's tower.

When only the royals, Merlin, and Gaius remained in the quiet room, Arthur leaned forward, his attention solely on the warlock before him.

"What else have you done, for me?" Almost pleading Merlin for an answer. "I want to know. I want to know everything."

A sigh escaped Merlin's lips, which formed into a thin line as he thought of what to say to his king. "I can't promise it will be easy, or what kind of affect it will have on our relationship—there will be some things you won't like, things I'm not proud of. I've made many mistakes over the years." The guilt and regret exuded from Merlin's words in waves. "But I need time. I will explain everything to you, Sire, but right now, I… I can't."

Arthur opened his mouth, but then quickly closed it. His manservant looked exhausted, his eyes were duller than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more apparent the longer Arthur stared at him. Merlin was right. Now was not the time to labor over these secrets. The details would come in time, but right now, it was the present and future that mattered.

Merlin must have noticed his king's intensive gaze, he fidgeted in his seat, and gave him a small smile, "I'm fine Arthur, just overwhelmed. Really."

A retort formed on the King's tongue, but a hand wrapped around his arm, forcing his attention to his wife.

Her kind eyes spoke volumes as she slowly moved her head from side to side. Arthur closed his mouth, again. Gwen, content with what she saw in Arthur's gaze, flicked her eyes from Merlin and then back to her husband's.

Arthur cleared his throat, and placed his free hand on Merlin's shoulder, squeezing gently. Instead of employing the usual banter, Arthur simply smiled at his friend, eyes portraying the words he couldn't say aloud.

Merlin's kaleidoscopic orbs misted with tears, and as he blinked, they fell to his cheeks, but he continued staring into the eyes of his soul brother. Finally, Merlin broke the silence, with a slightly choked, and almost whispered, "thank you."

Arthur's eyebrows knit together, a small frown forming at his lips. He shook his head.

"No, Merlin. Thank _you_."

In Arthur's eyes, the gratitude, fondness, and love for his brother shone as bright as day. There would never be enough 'thank you's for his manservant—this he knew, but he also understood that Merlin would never accept them all. He was much too humble, selfless… too Merlin. Arthur chuckled to himself at the thought. Merlin was still Merlin, magic or not.

As these thoughts occupied the King's mind, Gaius looked on with pride, watching what he knew to be the beginning of the young men's intertwined Destiny. Camelot was about to change, but for the better. Magic was coming back to the land.

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><p>AN: The longest chapter yet! Please review and let me know what you think!<p>

Next update will be by October 10th.


	5. Chapter 5

So, this is it—the final chapter of D&F! Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited, followed, or written reviews for this story. Your encouragement has been overwhelming.

Anyway, in other exciting news, D&F WILL have a sequel! Although my life has been busy recently with homework and classes, I have a rough outline for the next story. I might not be able to update it as often as this fic, but it will happen.

Here it is, the final chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

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><p>The fire crackled, echoing across the still courtyard and disrupting the heavy silence. Not a soul in the crowd moved as the flames licked the dry wood, paying tribute to the fallen warriors. Nobles, knights, and townspeople stood together, united in mourning. Their king, standing at the front of the crowd, had his gaze locked on the pyre. Tears fell from his eyes in silence—the only sign of grief that he allowed himself to show at the loss of so many lives. Although he felt no shame for crying in front of his subjects, and no longer believed that no man was worth his tears, he chose to mask most of his grief, to remain strong for his people. His hands interlaced with the queen's, as they drew strength from one another. Arthur glanced quickly to his left, where the Round Table knights, as they were called, stood together. Although he did not look in their direction, the king knew that Gaius and Merlin stood to his right. He could feel Merlin's comforting presence behind him, grounding him, strengthening him. It was a bond that Arthur had always noticed, but never truly understood, until now. His heart finally recognized the half of him that lay in his magical brother.<p>

The king's lips formed a small smile as he looked to his right.

Merlin stood tall, his hands tightly clasped behind his back. His exhaustion from the past few days had not totally disappeared, but Gaius was at his side, his arm resting on Merlin's back in a comforting gesture, as well as for support. But it was in the warlock's kaleidoscopic eyes that attracted the king's gaze. His blue eyes glistened with tears, filled with sorrow for all the lives he had not been able to save, and of thankful relief for the lives of those that he had almost lost.

It was like this that the city of Camelot honored their fallen; tears dripped silently to the cobblestones, while red capes flapped in the gentle breeze.

* * *

><p>When the wood had burned to ashes, the crowd slowly filed out of the courtyard, and with a final glance, King Arthur turned towards the stairs. Although their losses had been great, it was nothing to what it could have been, this he knew. Arthur was grateful for the countless lives that the old sorcerer—Merlin, had saved. Because of him, the battle had been won, Morgana was destroyed, and peace in Camelot had been restored.<p>

Somewhere along the turns and stairwells, Gwaine, Leon, and Percival, had left without a word, branching off into another hall leading to the knights' barracks. But Arthur paid no attention to them—he was too focused on his thoughts.

He knew now what he had to do.

It was a path that had not been taken in Camelot for decades, and yet, it was the only way to truly bring about his Destiny. He was afraid of what was to come, but at the same time, he wasn't. It felt right—one of the first times he felt truly confident in his decisions.

King Arthur was aware of the walls of fear that would have to be torn down, but the responsibilities of correcting his father's errors now fell to him.

A new era of Camelot was about to begin, and the young Pendragon was more than ready to take on the challenge.

His thoughts kept his mind occupied, but his body, familiar with the route to his chambers, directed him to the end of the long corridor. Starting to turn right, Arthur suddenly caught sight of his manservant. He halted, turning around. At the sudden movement, Gaius paused, stopping Merlin along with him. He had been leading Merlin toward their chambers, to the left.

"Merlin, Gaius, please follow me to my chambers." The King said no more, only acknowledging their confused expressions and Gaius's nod.

At his arm, Gwen looked up at him, confusion also evident in her expression. He only smiled at her, patting her hand gently. She'd find out soon enough.

A sense of curiosity now sparked in the air around the group, making Arthur eager to reveal his plans. But he held his mouth closed in a thin line, and led his wife down the halls, listening to the swaying fabrics of their formal clothes, and the clink of his sword against his hip.

A little while down, he heard Merlin stumble. The warlock muttered a curse, reaching a steadying hand out toward the wall. Gaius tightened his grip on his ward's other arm, grumbling about clumsiness and watching where he was walking. Arthur didn't look back, but smiled to himself, _same old Merlin. Some things just never change. _

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><p>A few steps behind the royals, Merlin and Gaius quickly recovered from the warlock's moment of clumsiness, each lost in the memories the burial had caused to resurface.<p>

Merlin flinched, thinking of the power he had released at Camlann. It scared him, to command such a large force of magic. There, at Camlann he had held so much power—the likes of which he had never used before. But now that the battle was over and won, he felt the guilt of those lives he had ended.

Was he a monster? The constant question he had asked himself over the years, buried, only to come alive again when Merlin was at his weakest. He had been prey to these thoughts for as long as he could remember. But, was he truly this inhuman magical creature, born to kill?

No. It was his duty to protect. He had been born for the Once and Future King, and Camlann was necessary to see Destiny come to pass. Merlin sighed. He knew what he had done was right, and yet, he would never get over the guilt of ending those lives.

Gaius, having felt Merlin flinch, eyed the boy warily. He could venture a guess as to what the young man was thinking. It was always the same after such events. The Physician wished it weren't the case—that Merlin would move on and leave the burdens of guilt behind, but he knew it was too much to ask of the boy. It was Merlin, after all. Gaius opted for squeezing his ward's shoulder comfortingly, hoping to pull him from his dark thoughts.

Merlin's gaze flickered to the old man, a tired smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

They continued walking the corridors in silence, but the quiet was not as heavy as it had been before.

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><p>Shutting the door, Arthur eased himself into his spot at the head of the table. The King motioned for the others to take their seats, and, as usual, Merlin obeyed in his own cheeky way.<p>

"So, what's this about?" Merlin huffed, plopping himself down in the chair Gaius pulled out for him. He yawned, his face then returning to his usual, sunny expression.

"Need a nap, do you _Mer_lin?"

"Oh, you know, just need to catch up on my beauty sleep before the feast,"

He would keep this quick. Although Merlin's magic had returned to normal, his body was still recovering. The dark smudges beneath his eyes and drooping shoulders betrayed his weariness.

"Don't be such a girl, Merlin. I mean, seriously. Beauty sleep?"

"Hey, everyone needs it—although it's obvious that all that sleeping still hasn't done you much good," Merlin quipped, eyes gleaming with amusement

"What are you trying to s—"

Gwen cleared her throat, "Arthur."

He glared at the warlock, who was grinning back in victory. "Right." He coughed. The young king leaned forward, placing his folded hands on the table. At his sudden change in demeanor, the others prepared themselves for a serious conversation. Arthur took a breath before speaking, "Tonight, at the feast, I am going to lift the ban on magic."

Merlin's eyes widened as he let out a gasp, "You're—you're… what?"

Gaius placed a comforting hand on Merlin's arm, his own eyes glistening with tears and pride.

"You heard me, I'm going to legalize magic. You won't have to hide anymore."

A tear trailed down Merlin's cheek, "Arthur," he breathed, "I—I can't believe—are you sure? I mean, what about the council, a-and the knights, and the people, what if they're not rea—"

"Merlin." Arthur's soft interruption silenced the warlock. "It is my decision. I can deal with the council, and whatever comes out of this… you deserve so much more, but this is the first step. I am going to make this happen."

Merlin let out a shuttered breath, his eyes shining, "Arthur—"

Exhaustion forgotten, the warlock jumped from his chair. Arthur stood as Merlin approached, letting out a laugh when gangly arms wrapped around him.

"Thank you." He whispered into Arthur's shoulder, his voice filled with gratitude.

The king swallowed the lump in his throat. How must it feel to be told you don't have to live in fear anymore? That you don't have to hide? All his life, Merlin lived with his secret, fearing death and persecution.

No one should have to live like that.

Right there, in his brother's embrace, Arthur resolved to make it up to him—to do whatever it took to give him the life he deserved.

He looked up at Guinevere, her eyes sparkling with tears and a hand over her mouth as she cried. She caught his gaze and smiled. He smiled back, nodding his head slightly.

After a moment, Arthur cleared his throat. Merlin let out a laugh, releasing his king and stepping back.

Then, suddenly, Gaius appeared next to his ward. Merlin let out another laugh, this one filled with giddy relief. Gaius joined him, hugging and laughing. He patted his ward's back before releasing him, "You did it, my boy."

Merlin smiled, wiping the tears from under his eyes.

"You've really got to work on your manly image, _Mer_lin." Arthur jibbed, gently punching the warlock's arm, "You're never going to win a girl's heart by acting like one,"

"Well, you managed alright." He winked at Gwen.

"Merlin!"

Arthur's cry of protest, along with a chuckle from Gwen, brought Merlin's lips into a wide grin. Gaius merely shook his head at the boys' antics.

Arthur leaned into the back of his wooden chair, an elbow leaning on the armrest so that his hand could support his head. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, but there were a few that had nearly kept him up the previous night. These were the ones that now demanded his attention. The King was loath to bring up more of Merlin's secret adventures—as he had promised him only hours earlier that he would wait till the warlock was ready; but he needed to confirm his suspicions before he could let go and enjoy the night's feast. Merlin had let it slip that he had disguised himself as an old man during his journey to destroy the Fomorroh. And then, during the battle, he had been under that same spell. Arthur knew what that meant, but he needed to hear Merlin say it…he needed to be sure. His mind flashed back to that terrible night, with a quirky old man and familiar blue eyes… he shook his head.

"Merlin… I need to ask you something." He paused, biting his bottom lip, "The old man—well, you, I guess…"

Merlin tensed, he knew where this was going. "Just spit it out Arthur."

"Did you kill my father?" He heard Gwen gasp beside him, but kept his gaze locked on the warlock.

Merlin flinched violently, self-loathing and guilt filling his features,

"Sire—" Gaius spoke up, but Merlin cut him off.

"It's ok, Gaius." He took a deep breath, wringing his hands in his lap before continuing. "It was an accident. That night, I really did try to save him, but Morgana outsmarted me. She had Agravaine place a pendant around Uther's neck, to reverse any healing effect… the spell was working, until the pendant kicked in."

Arthur nodded, doubting his ability to speak. Gaius had told him as much, long ago, when he'd asked why the physician would lie for the sorcerer,

"_I chose to protect him. I feared you would seek him out and execute him. That would've been a grave mistake. The sorcerer did not kill your father. Uther was dying. He tried everything in his power to save him."_

He had attempted to deny it, but Arthur had known, deep down, that the old man had been trying to help. The surprise and crushing grief that had appeared on his face could not be faked.

"I wanted to show you that magic wasn't all bad—that it could be used for good. And I failed."

He had spoken those words that night as well,

"_I know you have suffered because of magic, as many have. But not all magic, and not all sorcerers are the same. I wish only to show you that magic can be used for good. I hope one day you'll see me in a different light."_

And it had backfired spectacularly, all thanks to Morgana. Because of her, Merlin bore the guilt of Uther's death, and Arthur's hatred of the magic that he had so naïvely believed to have killed his father. Oh, how much pain he had caused! And now, just to confirm his thoughts, he had opened the wound, painfully reminding the warlock of one of his 'failures'.

"Merlin, it's ok. I understand." He placed his hand over Merlin's, stopping the nervous wringing that continued as he spoke, "You protected my father, for me. You tried to save him, for me. Even if it meant having to hide yourself longer, you suffered in order to save me from that pain. I'm sorry that I ever doubted you."

"Oh Merlin," Gwen said, her eyes shining with sympathy.

For what seemed like the millionth time that day, Merlin choked back a sob, a weak smile spreading across his face.

"You have already been forgiven, old friend."

The weight of the statement brought tears to the corners of Arthur's eyes. How could he possibly deserve such a dear friend and companion as Merlin?

But before he could respond to his manservant's heartfelt answer, a sharp intake of breath drew Arthur's eyes from Merlin to his wife.

"This, old man disguise, Merlin, it was the same disguise you used when you healed my father," Gwen said slowly, as if thinking-out the best way to say it.

Merlin nodded, "That was my first time trying the aging spell. Didn't quite get the aging back part right… I was stuck until Gaius could get me the potion."

The King's stomach dropped, "I—I led you to the pyre for that. I almost led you to your death." Arthur choked. It was his turn to feel the heavy weight of self-loathing, as he imagined how different everything would've turned out if they had successfully burnt the old sorcerer that day.

"You didn't know, Arthur. You couldn't."

"But… how do not hate me? All this time, you've protected me, counseled me—and I've returned it with prejudiced words and pyres."

"In the end, it all worked out fine, and that's what mattered. It's a thing of the past."

Arthur dropped his gaze, tracing the patterns of the wood.

"Besides," Merlin added, "one cannot truly hate that which makes him whole."

He felt something within him stir, almost with familiarity, "What?"

"Just something Kilgharrah told me once. You and I are two sides of the same coin, Arthur. I could never hate you."

Pride and brotherly affection filled his heart. The King leaned forward, reaching out a hand to ruffle Merlin's hair. The young warlock ducked his head to avoid it, but Arthur's hand had already closed the gap between them. A laugh erupted from both men, caught in the familiarity of the teasing.

After a few more seconds, Merlin moved back, and Arthur too, broke away from his friend. Merlin was smiling as he stifled a yawn.

They sat there in a comfortable silence, before Gaius stood, bracing himself on the table as his old bones creaked in protest.

"Now, if you'll excuse us Sire, it looks like someone could use a bit of rest before the feast tonight. He can barely stand on his own."

Merlin looked up, but didn't bother to respond, only proving the physician's statement.

"Of course, Gaius. Just, one more thing."

"When I lift the ban tonight, there's going to be a lot of opinions and… Camelot is going to need a figurehead—someone to represent the magical community, and address concerns in the council. I'll be bringing back a position that hasn't been held in years—and I want you to help me, Merlin. I want you to be Camelot's Court Sorcerer."

Merlin's mouth hung open in shock.

"But-, Arthur—right now? Me?"

Arthur snorted. "Yes _Mer_lin, you are after all, the idiot that started this thing. Besides the fact that your position in the Druid legacies makes you the perfect man for the job, you are the only person _worthy_ of it.

Merlin, you are the only man I'd ever want to fill that role… that is, if you'll have it." At the last few words, Arthur's voice lowered, a slight shake of hesitation at the end.

"I-I, why yes, of course Arthur," Merlin spluttered. He then sobered, his words filling with an intense passion, "I have always had your back, and I'm not going to stop now… we, have a Destiny to fulfill, after all."

A smile broke out on the King's face. The idea of Merlin beside him—as his equal, was something he had never thought about. But now, nothing had ever made more sense.

Merlin, and Merlin alone, would be his advisor, warlock, and brother; united by friendship and sealed by Destiny.

"_Contained within this great kingdom is a rich variety of people with a range of different beliefs. I'm not the only one seeking to protect you. There are many more who believe in the world you are trying to create. One day you will learn, Arthur. One day you will understand...just how much they've done for you."_

Yes, he understood now what Gaius had meant—he finally understood. And now, it was his turn to do something for Merlin. He was going to set things right.

* * *

><p>Echoes of laughter and merry conversation filled the great hall—a tribute to peace, and a celebration of those who gave their lives at Camlann. With the battle behind them, the people could honor their loved ones and fallen comrades. The crowd had already been gathered for some time, talking amongst themselves as they awaited the arrival of the royals.<p>

Flickering candlelight danced across the walls, bathing the room with a warm and comforting light. Slowly, the main doors swung open, signaling the entrance of Camelot's King and Queen. The room fell into a respectful silenced as the knights and noblemen present bowed their heads to the royal couple. A polite distance behind the Pendragons, the Court Physician ushered Merlin along with a nudge. Those in attendance cast cautious glances at the warlock, many having heard of the king's 'magical' reappearance in the city.

Making it across the room, Arthur and Gwen stepped onto the dais and turned around, facing the other tables. Gaius moved toward the Physician's usual spot, with Merlin also joining him for this occasion. Arthur had given him the night off.

The silence continued, the air filling with tension at what the King would announce.

Arthur fidgeted for a few moments, not quite sure where to start, but as his gaze flickered over the crowd, his eyes fell on Merlin. It clicked.

With his brother's silent encouragement, the young Pendragon began,

"Citizens of Camelot." Arthur's voice rang with power and confidence, "This evening, we grieve for the loss of life. But tonight, we also celebrate their lives, and their sacrifice. The sacrifice, which has given us the chance at a brighter future." He paused, knowing it was the next part that would incite a reaction from his citizens.

"By now, most of you in this room either witnessed or heard of our other savior—the sorcerer, who saved our ranks from more disastrous casualties, and in the end, the one who vanquished Morgana.

While I know it is hard to believe—that a sorcerer would use his magic to defend the kingdom of a Pendragon, I assure you that it is true. Magic was with us that night… as it has been for a great many years, only, I never knew.

I grew up with a father who constantly drilled into my head the dangers of magic. He instilled a caution and hatred of the Old Religion so deep in my soul, that I was blind to the truth.

And yet, the Great Purge was the result of my birth. My father did not heed the warnings of Nimueh, and when he could not produce an heir, he turned to magic—but at the cost of a life for a life, my mother died so that I could live. I, Arthur Pendragon, am born of magic."

Shocked gasps erupted from the ladies and noblemen. Gwen squeezed his arm in a comforting gesture as he paused his speech, looking around the room. Merlin's eyebrow was raised, surprised that Arthur had chosen to share that information.

"Now I understand that my father started the Great Purge out of his own blindness and fears, and while I don't hate my father for what he had tried to do, I know the errors that he made. Uther thought he was protecting his kingdom, just as I hope to be doing now. Only, he could not see through his clouded thoughts.

It wasn't until Camlann, that that very same cloud was lifted from my eyes." Arthur took a deep breath, "As a wise friend once told me, magic is a tool. It is like a sword, with the potential to do great harm, but also the potential to protect. It is not simply magic that is to blame for the evil deeds a sorcerer commits, but the hearts of men. We in Camelot do not see that—I did not see that truth, because my father's hatred only strengthened the sharp edge of magic against him. But the time for bloodshed is over.

And that is why, I am lifting the ban on magic."

The hushed whispers that had been passed along during the speech, now reached a crescendo—if that was at all possible with whispering. The volume of the crowd, tense and anxious, growing as the nobles murmured their thoughts to the persons beside them.

Unable to speak over the noise of his guests, Arthur raised a hand, signaling for their attention.

"How did I come to discover such a thing, you may ask. After all that I have faced, all that I have been taught, how can I simply change? I owe it all to one man—a warlock."

Merlin's hand flew to his mouth, suppressing a gasp. Gwaine, who had taken the seat next to him, reached out a steadying hand as the warlock wavered in place. A few guests near Merlin gave him a confused glance, but quickly turned back to their king.

"What is he doing?!" Merlin hissed, fear and shock battling for control of his voice,

"He's freeing you, my boy." Gaius's proud gaze met Merlin's before it was brought back to focus on Arthur.

"This man—a sorcerer from birth, has been secretly protecting not only myself, but this entire kingdom, for the past decade. The threats of other sorcerers, magical creatures, and then, of Morgana, were borne alone on the shoulders of this man. For years he has stood by me, protecting me from the shadows, while in the light, I only saw a bumbling idiot."

A few guests threw wary glances at Merlin, having for nearly a decade, heard the "idiot" remark being directed at the king's personal manservant. Merlin's heart thumped wildly in his chest. Nervously chewing on his lower lip, he waited for the shoe to drop; to hear his name being called out and identified with what he had feared for his whole life—the very word "sorcery," in combination with his name had been echoing through his nightmares for as long as he could remember.

But this was different. Merlin took a deep breath. This was Arthur—his friend, his brother, and when the declaration of sorcery would fall from his lips, it would be a release from his jail of secrets. Arthur was setting him free and righting every nightmare he had ever dreamed.

The warlock settled his gaze on his king, hoping he could live up to the words Arthur had been buttering the crowd with. "…This sorcerer—warlock, struggled in secret to make sure this kingdom lasted through each night and every attack. And worst of all, he has been through the heartache of watching day after day, the hatred his best friend held for his kind… but no more. It is with understanding and a brotherly joy that I am embracing this new era. And it is high time that this man receives the appreciation he deserves."

Arthur held out a hand in Merlin's direction, signaling him to come forward. If the crowd hadn't guessed whom the speech was about by this point, there was certainly no way to ignore it now. Merlin shakily stepped away from the table, holding onto Gwaine as he slipped out from the bench. When he reached the dais, the warlock clasped his trembling hands behind his back and bowed his head. Arthur frowned slightly at the submissive gesture, but continued,

"It is because of this man that the kingdom of Camelot still stands—and it is because of this man, that I am the king I am today."

By now the hall was dead silent. Merlin bounced from foot to foot, trying to ease the butterflies in his stomach.

Arthur's lips pulled into a slight smile at the former manservant's antics, before he carefully reconstructed his kingly persona.

"Kneel."

Merlin lowered himself to the ground in an awkward grace that could only be attributed to him. Arthur's heart flooded with warmth as he gazed at his bumbling servant. Now, before him was his brother, the warlock Emrys, and the Protector of the Once and Future King.

Merlin was two halves—magic and human. It was only now, with Merlin trying, but failing to keep the grin from his face, that Arthur could see this.

"Merlin of Ealdor, do you solemnly swear to uphold the laws of Camelot; to protect, advise, and serve her people to whatever end that may come?"

Merlin's eyes glistened, looking up into the gaze of his King.

"I so swear."

"Do you resolve to be truthful, to be courageous in the face of fear, and never stray from the path of duty?"

"I do"

"Do you promise to guide the land in the ways of magic and the Old Religion, using your power for the good of the people of Camelot?"

"I do."

"And do you, Merlin of Ealdor, swear allegiance to your King."

At this, Merlin gave him a soft, wise smile. "I so swear allegiance to the Once and Future King. To guide, protect, and serve him to the best of my abilities, and I will be his servant—and happy to be so, till the very last breath leaves my body."

Wetness pricked at the corners of Arthur's eyes. He nodded in response; it was all he could do to acknowledge the vow.

The King pulled Excalibur from his waist, the metal zinging as it left the sheath. Like always, Arthur marveled at the craftsmanship of the sword, a gift from the friend who now kneeled before him. It was only right that this sword be used on a day such as this. He adjusted his grip on the pommel, lowering the flat edge of the weapon to Merlin's right shoulder, and then to his left. He spoke to the audience—but most importantly, he spoke to his brother.

"Then rise, Merlin Emrys, Court Sorcerer of Camelot."

Merlin's tears finally spilt over his lashes, breath taken away by both the name and title. Arthur had combined his two images. The warlock had struggled for so long, trying to reconcile these two personas—a farm boy from Ealdor with no family name, and the magic incarnate, prophetic Druid ruler known as Emrys.

But Arthur had fixed that.

He was now Merlin Emrys, a powerful warlock that rose from the humble fields of a distant village to serve in the court of the Once and Future King.

And better still, he was _free_. Free to be his whole self—both Merlin _and_ Emrys.

The days of hiding were finally over.

* * *

><p>The feast lasted well into the night, filled with music, dancing, and an abundance of food. After the initial shock of Arthur's announcement had worn off, those in attendance relaxed, and were seemingly supportive of the change.<p>

It appeared that most were actually open to, or held no opinion of magic. Uther's views had caused Camelot's citizens to respond out of fear rather than hatred, and so, except for a few old relics in the council, the crowd was proud of their young king's decision.

And then, at the heart of the evening's matter, there was Merlin. Practically everyone in the castle knew the kind and clumsy manservant. The young man who helped everyone he saw, and always gave his time to those who wished to talk; no, no one could imagine him as an evil sorcerer.

It was with these thoughts, that the outpouring of questions and well wishes for the new Court Sorcerer were received. The guests were hesitant at first, but curiosity eventually won over each individual. Soon, the nobles, knights, and servants kept up a steady stream of questions, until Merlin was up to his ears with inquires.

The young warlock was patient with everyone, but it ultimately became too much for one night, and so he had been moved to sit at the high table, to the right of Arthur. The people, content to let their questioning wait for another time, watched the interaction between the King and his warlock with affection and pride.

Shortly after the dinner courses had been served, the dancing started. It wasn't too soon after that, that Arthur and Gwen excused themselves from the table, eager join in the festivities on the floor. The warlock watched, laughing as his friends tripped and twirled around other couples. Gwaine had, at one point, butt in to dance with the Queen, and the whole thing became something of a competition. But due to his own clumsiness and two left feet, Merlin was content to sit and watch the scenes unfolding before him.

Gazing around the room, Merlin caught the proud gaze of his mentor and father. Tears shimmered in Gaius's eyes, a sense of joy that had been lacking now filled his features. Next to him, Gwaine, forgetting the dance floor, was caught up in an animated retelling of one of his many tavern adventures, ale splashing from the sides of the mug in his hands. Leon and Percival sat across and beside their brother-in-arms, laughing at the ridiculous antics of their friend. Merlin chuckled, and continued down the table, watching the interactions of the other knights and nobles, smiling and laughing.

After years of trials and rising doubt, Destiny had revealed herself. The time of Albion was dawning.

His gaze traveled back to the center of the room, a particularly jovial tune having just ended. Arthur had been staring at him, pride and affection lighting up his eyes. This was just the beginning. Although they would face their fair share of trials in the near future, they would do it together.

And he wouldn't trade it for the world.

_~Fin_

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks again for for reading, and be sure to review and let me know what you think!<p>

AND stay tuned for the **sequel**! There's sure to be more bromance, hurt comfort, and a whole lot of magic!

The sequel's first chapter should be posted within the next week or so.

UPDATE: Thank you Merlinreveal3 for catching an appearance from the long-dead Lancelot. The error has now been fixed.


	6. Sequel

**Author's Note**

For all of you who requested the link, the SEQUEL is now up!

Title: Of Enemies and Allies

Summary: When Emrys and the Once and Future King receive an invitation of peace, it is accompanied with news of a dark battle swarming on the horizon. Struggling to bring Camelot into the Golden Age, can they learn to trust in Destiny?

Check out the story on my profile, or by typing this link into your browser:

(Please substitute the words in parentheses with corresponding symbols, and remove the spaces)

w w s / 10763132 / 1 / Of - Enemies - and - Allies

Enjoy!

Mirror


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